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CHANCES  AND  CHANGES 


A  DOMESTIC  STORY 


THE  AUTHOR  OF  "  SIX  WEEKS  ON  THE  LOIRE.' 


52a^'^^     ^ 


0^ chance  or  change,  0  let  not  man  complain." 

Beattie. 


IN    THREE    VOLUMES 
VOL.   I. 

SECOND    EDITION. 


LONDON 

SMITH,    ELDER   AND    CO.,  CORNHILL. 

1836.  '' 


LONDON: 

Printed  by  Thos.  C.  Newby,  No.  if,  Little  Queen  Street. 


C^ 


1 

y\        CHANCES  AND  CHANGES. 


^ 


CHxVPTER  I. 
A    STRANGER. 

u  O  HOW  (lull    I   feel    without  Amelia  !" 
T*  said  Catherine   Neville  to  her  father,  the  day- 
after  her  married  sister  had  left   the   Rectory, 
^  where  she  had  been  spending  Christmas.  "  Her 
room  looks  so  forlorn,  now  that  she  is  gone!    I 
-".  have    been    putting    the    children's    playthings 
^r£  away,  and   I  could  have  cried  over  them,  they 

^        VOL.    I.  B 


2  A   STRANGER. 

reminded  me  so  of  the  darlings  !  Well !  you 
may  say  what  you  like  about  parting,  but  I  am 
sure  those  who  go  away  have  a  great  advantage 
over  those  that  remain  stationary." 

"  And  yet  you  must  allow  that  those  who 
remain  stationary,  cannot  be  so  much  moved," 
said  her  father,  who,  though  a  great  admirer  of 
wit  in  others,  and  a  very  competent  judge  of  it, 
rarely  gave  himself  the  trouble  to  rise  beyond 
a  pun. 

"  Now  you  shall  move  your  fiddlestick  for 
that,"  cried  Catherine,  running  to  open  her 
pianoforte,  "  we  will  have  a  nice  long  practise, 
and  that  will  get  the  morning  over." 

«*  So  it  might,"  replied  Mr.  Neville,  "  but 
unfortunately  for  your  design  against  time,  I 
must  think  not  of  quavers  and  crotchets,  but 
capers  and  curvets; — you  forget  it  is  the  visi- 
tation;— and  here  comes  the  poney,  I  declare  ! 
and  I  have  neither  got  my  bands  tied,  nor  my 
spurs  buckled." 


A   STRANGER.  3 

"  I  have  almost  forgotten  how  to  do  such 
things,'*  said  Catherine,  as  she  knelt  to  button 
her  father's  gaiters,  "between  little  Catherine 
and  Percival  I  was  quite  turned  out  of  office." 

"  Ah,  the  little  rogues !  I  wish  they  were 
back  again,"  said  Mr.  Neville,  as  he  went  to 
mount  his  grey  poney,  which  was  as  well  known 
at  the  visitations  and  quarter  sessions  as  him- 
self. 

"  And  so  do  I !"  thought  Catherine,  as  she 
slowly  returned  to  the  parlour,  and  looked 
round  it  with  tliat  sort  of  enquiring  air  which 
seems  to  wonder  if  any  thing  can  suddenly 
spring  out  of  nothing,  to  afford  matter  of  occu- 
pation, or  amusement.  "  I  wish  Fanny  Brays- 
wick  had  been  at  home.  We  might  have  taken 
a  long  walk  :  how  unlucky  it  is  !  I  remember 
she  was  at  her  grandmother's  last  year,  too, 
when  my  sister  went  away.  Tiiere  are  the 
Longcrofts,  to  be  sure — but  Edward  is  at  the 
Hall  now;  and  I  never  like  to  go  when  he  is 
B  2 


4  A    STRANGER. 

there ;  be  grows  so  proud  !     I  do  think  he  will 
soon  be  as  formal  as  his  uncle." 

Whilst  Catherine  thus  held  communion  with 
herself,  it  began  to  rain,  and  she  felt  a  little 
consoled  in  the  thought  that  even  if  Fanny  had 
not  been  at  her  grandmother's,  or  Edward  not 
at  the  Hall,  she  still  would  have  been  obliged 
to  remain  at  home ;  and  she  tlierefore  began  to 
think,  in  good  earnest,  of  employing  herself 
within  doors  :  looking  towards  the  window,  in 
pensive  contemplation  of  the  weatlier,  she  re- 
collected that  the  curtains  which  her  sister  had 
gone  with  her  a  few  days  before  to  the  next 
market-town,  purposely  to  assist  her  in  choos- 
ing, ought  to  be  cut  out,  and  made  up  with  all 
possible  dispatch,  or  the  winter  would  get  over 
without  any  benefit  from  them  :  she  determined 
to  begin  them  that  very  day — it  was  just  the 
kind  of  thing  she  should  like — tliey  would  re- 
quire some  contriving,  and  her  father  would  he 
out  of  the  way,  and  she  could  have  Margaret 


A    STRANGER.  O 

to  liflp  lier,  and  tlie  draperies  should  be  exactly 
like  her  sister's,  at  Blackthorn  Cottage. 

It  is  impossible  to  be  very  busy  and  very  un- 
happy at  tlie  same  time.  Catherine  soon  forgot 
that  she  was  alone.  Slie  ordered  dinner  early, 
and  the  instant  that  it  was  over  she  began  her 
plan  of  operations.  The  hours  flew  by  unper- 
ceived,  on  tlie  wings  of  occupation,  and  evening 
came  as  unexpectedly  as  it  had  seemed  to  do, 
when  she  had  her  sister  to  talk  to,  and  her 
little  niece  and  nepliew  to  piay  witli.  She  had 
just  mounted  on  lier  music-stool,  to  measure 
the  length  of  the  windows,  when  she  fancied 
she  heard  the  sound  of  wheels.  She  stopped, 
and  listened  : — 

"  Surely  Margaret,"  said  she,  "  I  hear  a 
chaise  !  I  hope  my  father  has  not  been  taken 
ill." 

"  No,  Miss,  it  can't  be  measter,  for  Csesar 
keeps  sic  a  barking — it's  raoast  likely  Carrier, 
it's  just  about  his  time." 


6  A    STRANGER. 

"  Then  very  likely  it  may  be,  and  I  hope  he 
has  brought  me  my  books,"  said  Catherine, 
making  a  fresh  effort  to  raise  her  hands  high 
enough  to  hang  a  breadth  of  chintz  from  the 
top  of  the  window;  but  whilst  she  was  so 
doing,  and  just  as  Margaret  was  saying  she 
knew  it  was  the  carrier,  for  she  could  swear  to 
his  step,  the  door  was  thrown  open,  and  in 
walked  a  tall  man,  wrapped  up  in  a  military 
great  coat,  trimmed  with  fur,  and  braided,  and 
frogged,  in  all  the  "  pride,  pomp,  and  circum- 
stance "  of  modern  fashion. 

Catherine  immediately  descended  from  her 
elevation  ;  not  quite  able  to  suppress  a  smile, 
as  she  thought  of  the  ridiculous  figure  she  must 
have  made  on  it,  half  hidden  in  folds  of  drapery, 
which,  sweeping  to  the  ground  and  covering  the 
stool  on  which  she  was  standing,  prevented  the 
cause  of  her  heightened  stature  from  being  at 
first  discovered.  She  however  advanced  to 
meet  the  stranger,  who  looked  pale  and  fatigued, 


A    STRANGER.  7 

and  who,  slie  perceived,  on  looking  more  nar- 
rowly at  him,  wore  liis  left  arm  in  a  sling.  He 
bowed  with  easy  grace,  and  after  expressing 
himself  unfortunate  in  not  finding  Mr.  Neville 
at  home,  begged  leave  to  enquire  how  long  his 
absence  might  be  protracted  ;  Catherine  replied 
she  was  expecting  him  every  instant,  and  re- 
quested that  in  the  interval  she  might  give 
orders  for  the  horses  to  be  put  into  the  stable. 
The  "  Unknown  "  chose  however  to  keep  them 
in  waiting,  nor  would  he  even  lay  aside  his 
great  coat,  though  he  condescended  to  throw 
himself  into  the  chair,  which,  Margaret,  after 
she  had  cleared  it  of  its  share  of  lining  and 
fringes,  had  respectfully  handed  to  him. 

Catherine  was  somewhat  ashamed  of  the  con- 
fusion in  which  the  room  appeared;  for  she 
was  aware  that  men  make  no  distinction  with 
respect  to  the  cause  or  nature  of  a  litter;  they 
see  something  that  they  fancy  looks  uncomfort- 
able, but  what  it  is,  or  how  long  it  may  con- 


8  A    STRANGER. 

tinue,  they  never  tliink  of  ascertaining.  Mar- 
garet, liowever,  soon  put  every  thing  to  rights, 
and  then,  bringing  in  the  candles  and  tea-things, 
greatly  relieved  her  young  mistress  by  giving 
her  something  to  do ;  for  she  could  scarcely 
find  a  word  to  say  to  her  unexpected  visitor, 
who  looked  very  grave  and  very  ill ;  and  though 
he  occasionally  addressed  himself  to  her  with 
an  air  of  politeness,  and  even  of  interest,  yet  he 
seemed  greatly  to  prefer  remaining  silent,  with 
his  large  dark  eyes  fixed  on  a  wood  fire  which 
threw  such  a  vivid  light  upon  his  sallow  com- 
plexion, as  made  it  look  altogether  ghastly. 
Tea,  however,  seemed  to  have  the  effect  of  a 
cordial  on  him ;  the  expression  of  uneasiness 
in  his  countenance  gradually  abated,  and  Cathe- 
rine would  have  begun  to  feel  quite  at  ease  in 
his  presence  ;  but  she  heard  the  rain  and  sleet 
patter  against  the  windows,  and  she  could  not 
help  thinking  of  the  horses  and  post-boy;  she 
ventured  to  say  something  in  their  behalf  to  her 


A    STRANGER.  V 

guost,  but  he,  opposite  to  tlie  full  blaze  of  the 
fire,  and  his  great  coat  still  buttoned,  said  that  it 
was  not  at  all  cold,  and  that  a  little  waiting 
would  do  neither  the  horses  nor  the  driver  any 
more  harm  than  it  would  the  chaise.  "  All 
machines  together,  I  suppose,"  thought  Catlie- 
rine,  "  in  his  estimation.  How  Amelia  would 
have  disliked  this  man  if  she  had  been  here  !" 
This  reflection,  as  well  as  all  the  reflections 
which  it  might  have  involved,  was,  perhaps  for- 
tunately for  him  who  had  given  rise  to  it,  inter- 
rupted by  the  well-known  regular  trot  of  the 
grey  pony. 

In  a  few  minutes  ivlr.  Neville  rang  at  the 
gate — aligijted — walked  up  the  garden — entered 
the  little  hail — hung  up  his  hat — put  his  whip 
into  its  accustomed  place,  and  patted  Caesar  on 
the  head.  The  stranger  smiled  as  he  listened 
to  all  his  movements.  "  How  familiar  that  step 
sounds !"  said  he,  at  the  same  time  rising,  and 
advancing  towards  the  door,  at  that  moment 
B    5 


10  A    STRANGER. 

opened  by  Mr.  Neville,  They  flew  to  meet  each 
other  "  My  good  friend  !  my  dear  Mr.  Neville  !" 
"  My  dear  Hamilton  !  my  dear  boy  !'*  Cathe- 
rine could  scarcely  help  smiling  at  her  father's 
exclamation  ;  but  she  found  from  it  that  this 
same  "  dear  boy,"  was  a  gentleman  well  known 
to  her  by  name,  \vho  had  been  her  father's 
pupil  at  college  some  dozen  years  before,  and 
to  whose  gratitude  for  the  instruction  at  that 
time  imparted  by  him,  he  owed  the  living  of 
Nelhercross.  ''You  are  welcome  into  Craven, 
heartily  welcome,"  said  the  worthy  Rector,  still 
shaking  his  unexpected  guest  by  the  hand,  "  the 
first  time,  I  think,  you  have  been  so  far  north  ? 
You  will  find  plenty  of  game  here — I  hope  you 
are  come  to  take  up  your  quarters  with  us 
during  the  sporting  season."  Hamilton  hesi- 
tated;  he  looked  towards  Catherine — he  was 
about  to  say  something,  but  checked  himself, 
and  in  a  few  minutes  afterwards,  requested  to 
speak  to  his  old  friend  alone.     They  retired; 


A    STRANGER.  11 

and  Catherine,  far  from  feeling  any  pique 
at  this  evident  exclusion  from  the  confidence 
of  her  new  acquaintance,  rejoiced  in  his 
absence,  as  it  afforded  her  an  opportunity  to 
order  supper,  and  see  his  bed-room  made  ready 
for  him. 

The  secret  conference  was  long,  and  when 
the  parties  returned,  it  seemed  as  if  Hamilton 
had  infected  Mr.  Neville  with  his  gravity.  Tlie 
chaise  was  however  dismissed — tl.e  luggage 
brought  in — the  furred  coat  taken  ofl' — but  the 
pigeons,  tarts  and  cream  made  their  appearance 
in  vain  ;  supper  was  scarcely  tasted,  and  as 
soon  as  it  was  taken  away,  Mr.  Neville  said, 
*'  Do  not  let  us  detain  you  Colonel  Hamilton  ; 
you  are,  1  dare  say,  tired  enougli,  with  the  dis- 
tance you  have  come  to  day."  The  Colonel  ac- 
cordingly bowed,  and  immediately  took  his 
candlestick,  without  waiting  for  prayers,  which 
Catherine  thought  rather  strange,  as  he  must 
have  seen  that  she  was  at  that  very  moment 


12  A    STRANGER. 

bringing  tlie  book  to  her  fatlicr ;  and  be 
too,  no  more  inclined  for  conversation  than  bis 
guest,  as  soon  as  ever  the  family  worship  was 
over,  w^isbed  her  good  night. 

"  It  is  to  be  sure  very  dull,"  tlionght  Cathe- 
rine, as  she  closed  her  chamber  door,  ''  to  have 
■no  companion  when  one  wants  to  make  a  few 
remarks,  or  to  ask  an  opinion.  How  I  do  wislr 
Amelia  bad  just  stayed  over  this  evening  with 
us!" 

The  wish  however  was  vain,  and  Catherine 
never  grieved  long  about  impossibilities  !  she 
therefore  took  a  volume  of  translations  from 
the  classics,  a  course  of  which  had  been  re- 
commended to  her,  by  her  father,  for  her 
winter  studies,  and  resolved  to  read  a  book 
of  the  "  Thebaid  "  before  she  went  to  bed  :  but 
the  feuds  of  Eteocles  and  Polynices,  did  not 
tend  to  compose  her  spirits  ;  and  when  at  length 
she  fell  asleep,  she  dreamed  that  she  was  ex- 
alted on  a  music-stool  in  a  tent,  and  that  Colonel 


A    STRANGER.  13 

Hamilton  rode  roiiiid  and  round  it,  at  full 
gallop,  on  a  cliarger,  which  at  last  made  a 
spring  towards  her,  and  she  awoke  in  a  fright. 


14 


CHAPTER  II. 


DOMESTIC  ARRANGEMENTS. 


At  peep  of  flay  Catherine  arose  ;  for  slie  was 
detcrmiued  that  the  nerves  of  her  fatlier's  visitor 
should  not  be  irritated  by  his  seeing  her  bustle 
about.  Accordingly  she  fed  her  birds,  arranged 
her  plants,  finished  the  cutting  out  of  her  cur- 
tains, and  got  every  thing  ready  for  breakfast 
by  eight  o'clock.  Her  father  smiled,  as  he  en- 
tered the  room  and  cast  his  eye  towards  the 


DOMESTIC    ARRANGEMENTS.  15 

table,  where  the  green-and-gold  cliina  was  set 
out  on  a  home-spun  cloth  as  wliite  as  snow. 
"  I  am  afraid,"  said  he,  "  all  this  grand  display- 
is  thrown  away,  at  least  for  this  morning,  as 
far  as  the  gentleman  for  whom  I  presume  it  to 
be  intended  may  be  concerned.  Colonel  Hamil- 
ton requests  that  he  may  have  a  large  basin  of 
tea,  and  a  small  piece  of  dry  toast  sent  up  to 
him  at  half-past  ten." 

"  Sent  up  to  him  !  and  so  late  !"  exclaimed 
Catherine,  '*He  must  be  very  ill." 

"  I  fear  he  is,"  replied  her  father,  "  though 
his  lying  in  bed  is  no  proof  of  it ;  we  must  not 
expect  town  gentlemen  to  come  all  at  once  into 
country  hours."  This  explanation  satisfied 
Catherine,  who  proceeded  to  make  tea;  and 
after  breakfast,  as  it  was  only  nine  o'clock,  and 
the  sun  was  shining  with  that  clearness  which 
makes  a  fine  winter  morning, when  it  does  occur, 
seem  of  more  value  than  all  the  cloudless  skies 
of  summer ;  she  proposed  to  take  a  walk,  before 


16  DOMESTIC  arrange:.ients. 

Colonel  Hamilton  should  come  down  stairs.  "And 
then,"  added  she,  "  I  will  just  call  at  Mrs.  Brays- 
wick's,  and  ask  when  she  expects  Fanny  home, 
for  somehow  or  other  I  quite  long  to  see  her." 

"  Why  my  dear  Catherine,"  said  her  father, 
with  a  little  hesitation  in  liis  manner,  "  if 
that  be  all  you  have  to  enquire  after,  I  had 
rather  you  did  not  call  there,  or  indeed  any 
where  else,  just  now ;  in  fact,  Colonel  Hamilton 
wishes  for  a  few  days,  or  it  may  be  for  a  few 
weeks,  to  keep  himself  quite  retired.  Now  of 
course  if  you  call  any  where  you  must  mention 
his  being  w^ith  us,  or  else  your  silence  would 
appear  very  odd,  and  then  we  should  have  in- 
vitations and  civilities  on  all  sides.  You  know 
very  well  how  a  thing  of  that  kind  runs  from 
one  village  to  another,  like  wild-fire,  all  through- 
out Craven.  From  what  little  you  have  seen 
already  of  Colonel  Hamilton,  you  may  imagine 
that  it  would  be  no  great  treat  to  him  to  walk 
two  or  three  miles  to  a  tea-party,  to  meet  a 


DOMESTIC    ARRANGEMENTS.  17 

dozen  old  ladies,  and  the  Apolhecajy  and  my- 
self, and  play  at  tliree-pcuny  whist :  but  there 
are  many  other  reasons  too — far  weightier; 
1  wish  they  were  not  so  important — a  sad  thing  ! 
a  sad  thing— however,  it  can't  be  helped  now." 

But  all  Catherine's  curiosity  was  swallowed  up 
in  her  ea2:erness  to  set  her  father's  mind  at  ease. 
"  It  is  no  matter,"  said  she,  "  I  will  not  go  out 
at  all  to  day:  enquiring  about  Fanny  will  not 
bring  her  back  again  any  sooner,  and  I  have 
plenty  to  do  at  home." 

Her  father's  smile  was  quite  reward  sufficient 
to  her,  for  tliis  little  act  of  self-denial,  and  away 
she  flew  into  the  kitchen,  to  consult  with 
Raciiel,  the  old  cook,  whose  idol  she  was,  on 
the  important  point  of  having  chickens  boiled, 
and  mutton  roasted,  or  the  case  reversed. 

When  Catherine  returned  to  the  parlour  she 
found  Hamilton  there,  in  his  brocaded  robe-de- 
c]ia!n])re  and  Turkish  slippers :  the  ever-ready 


18  DOMESTIC    ARRANGEMENTS. 

smile  played  round  her  lips,  in  spite  of  her  en- 
deavour to  conquer  it,  as  she  made  her  curtesy 
to  him ;  for  she  had  never  seen  a  gentleman  in 
any  thing  like  the  same  costume  before,  except, 
indeed,  my  Lord  Ogleby,  at  Covent  Garden 
once,  when  she  had  visited  London  with  her 
sister,  in  the  capacity  of  her  bridemaid. 

"  I  do  not,  however,  remind  him  o^  charming 
Miss  Fcmmj^^  thought  she,  as  he  half  raised 
himself  from  his  chair  to  return  her  salutation, 
and  then  sunk  back  again  with  an  air  of  inex- 
j)ressible  ennui,  Catherine  wished  she  had  been 
lucky  enough  not  to  have  come  into  the  room 
whilst  he  was  there  alone ;  but,  however,  the 
mischief  was  done,  for  she  could  not  run  out 
again  immediately ;  she  therefore  sate  down 
to  her  work,  and  as  Hamilton  cast  a  glance 
upon  her  glowing  cheek,  '*  Here,"  said  he 
to  himself,  *' begins  tlic  misery  of  being  in 
the  house  with  a  pretty  country  girl,  wlien  one 


D03IESTJC    ARRANGEMENTS.  19 

is  in  no  Imraour  to  make  love.  She  must 
think  me  inconceivably  stupid,  or  wonderfully 
savage." 

Now  it  happened  that,  just  at  tliat  moment, 
he  felt  more  really  in  want  of  something  to  say 
than  she  did,  and  all  he  could   tliink  of  was — 

"  I  suppose  you  do  not  see  a  daily  paper 
here?" 

"  No  sir,  we  have  only  the  York  Courant 
once  a  week,"  replied  Catherine — then,  after 
considering  a  moment,  she  went  to  the  book- 
case, adding,  "  will  you  give  me  leave  to  bring 
you  any  of  these  volumes?" 

The  dread  of  being  compelled  to  go  through 
the  *'  Spectator,"  or  "  Smollett's  Voyages,"  or 
the  "  History  of  England,"  effectually  roused 
Hamilton  from  his  languor. 

"  My  dear  Miss  Neville,"  he  exclaimed,  "  I 
must  beg  of  you  not  to  give  yourself  any 
trouble  about  me.  Do  not  think  because  I 
look  grave  that   I   want  amusement;  and  pray 


20  DO-MF.STIC    ARR.WGEMRN'l'S. 

do  not  let  me  put  any  restraint  upon  your  em- 
ployments, for  I  am  aware  tliat  just  now  I  am 
not  worth  tl.'o  fatigue  of  entcrtaiiiing." 

Catlierine  coloured  dee[)ly,  under  tlie  idea 
that  slie  might  liave  outstepj;ed  the  frigid  line 
which  modern  politeness  ])rescribes  to  its  vota- 
ries ;  but  she  made  no  reply,  and  iter  father 
just  then  coming  in,  and  finding  them  both 
silent,  cried  out : — 

"  Come  Cathciinc,  this  is  the  tiuie  you 
always  give  to  your  piano.  Colonel  Hamilton 
will  fancy  himself  in  your  way,  if  he  finds  out 
that  he  makes  any  alteration  in  your  plans.'* 

Of  course  the  Colonel  declared  that  he  should 
be  quite  unhappy  if  she  did  not  sit  down  to  her 
instrument,  and  she  began  to  think  she  had 
indeed  better  do  anything  than  continue  a 
fruitless  endeavour  to  keep  up  conversation  with 
one  who  either  had  nothing  to  say,  or  did  not 
think  it  worth  his  wliilc  to  make  a  single  re- 
mark to  her. 


DOMESTIC    ARRANGEMENTS.  21 

"  His  a  polished  mind  indeed  !  lie  must  be 
strangely  altered  since  my  father  had  the  di- 
rection of  what  I  have  often  heard  him  call  his 
fine  talents  !"  AVith  this  reflection  Catherine 
opened  her  music  books. 

"  Now  for  the  Battle  of  Prague,  or  the 
White  blossom'd  Thorn  !"  thouglit  Hamilton, 
groaning  in  tlie  agony  of  his  musical  spirit. 
His  ears  were,  however,  agreeably  surprised 
with  some  of  the  fullest  harmonies  of  Corelli, 
and  whilst  listening  to  the  "  thick  coming 
fancies"  and  rich  modulations  of  that  exquisite 
composer,  he  was  sensible  only  of  one  compari- 
son, and  that  was,  how  far  more  satisfactory 
they  were  to  taste  and  feeling  than  all  the 
long  flourishes,  and  contorted  difficulties,  and 
noisy  frippery  of  too  many  modern  composers, 
who  address  themselves  to  the  finger  and  the 
eye,  instead  of  the  ear  and  the  heart. 

**  How  those  sounds  bring  old  Trinity  before 


22  I>OMESTIC    ARRANGEMENTS. 

my  eyes,  again  !"  he  exclaimed  to  Mr.  Neville, 
"  Do  not  you  remember,  sir,  how  I  used  to 
bargain  with  you  for  a  set  to  with  our  violins, 
when  I  had  thundered  out  as  many  Greek  verses 
as  you  chose  to  task  me  with  ?" 

"  Aye  !  and  don't  you  remember  how  I  could 
get  nothing  out  of  you,  just  after  your  father 
gave  you  your  commission,  but 

'  Old  Chiron  thus  spoke  to  his  pupil  Achilles '  ?" 

"  Oh  yes  ! 

*  Visions  of  glory  spare  my  aching  sight,' 

I  am  afraid  I  have  never  been  so  much  of  a 
hero  since. — What  is  it  that  makes  us  look 
back  with  such  delight  on  the  days  of  our 
youth  ?  Is  it  novelty  that  gives  such  a  zest  to 
life  ?'» 

"  No,"   said  Mr.  Neville,  "  it  is  innocence : 


DOMESTIC    ARRyVNGEMENTS.  23 

if  you  trace  the  thing  you  will  always  find  that 
retrospection  becomes  disagreeable,  precisely  at 
the  point  of  time  when  it  is,  in  some  way  or 
other,  connnected  with  self-reproach/* 

Hamilton  looked  as  if  he  was  endeavouring 
to  ascertain  this  point,  and  to  judge  by  his 
countenance,  the  result  of  his  enquiry  did  not 
appear  particularly  gratifying  to  his  self-love  : 
but  Mr.  Neville,  who  would  not  intentionally 
have  wounded  the  feelings  of  any  human 
being,  whose  faults  he  might  hope  to  correct  in 
a  less  painful  manner,  was  led,  by  what  he  had 
said,  into  a  train  of  thought,  respecting  a  dis- 
course on  conscience,  which  he  was  writing, 
and  sitting  down  to  his  desk  he  forgot  in  a 
moment  that  there  was  any  body  else  in  the 
room. 

The  morning  passed  off  tolerably  well  to 
Hamilton  with  "  the  concord  of  sweet  sounds," 
and  Catherine  began  to  hope,  from  the  interest 


f^ 


24  DOMESTIC    ARRANGEMENTS. 

he  had  appeared  to  take  in  lier  music,  that  he 
would  condescend  to  make  himself  more  agree- 
able; but  the  time  was  not  yet  come. 
'  At  dinner  he  spoke  little  and  ate  less,  yet 
notwithstanding  the  moderation  of  his  repast,  his 
cheeks  glowed  after  it  with  feverish  heat,  and 
his  eyes  sparkled  with  morbid  brilliancy.  Ca- 
therine could  not  help  feeling  greatly  concerned 
for  him,  as  he  threw  himself  upon  the  sofa,  with 
the  most  unequivocal  expression  of  both  bodily 
and  mental  uneasiness,  and  she  took  her  work 
to  the  window  and  sate  there  in  perfect  stillness, 
which  was  interrupted  only  by  the  chirping  of 
her  canary-birds,  and  the  rustling  they  made 
as  they  hopped  about  in  their  little  gilded 
prisons. 

Such  gentle  and  monotonous  sounds  are  more 
soothing  than  entire  silence ;  at  least  so  Hamil- 
ton thought,  as  he  listened  to  them  with  half- 
closed  eyes,  and  contrasted  the  calm  employ- 


DOMESTIC    ARnANGEMENTS.  *2o 

ments  of  the  worthy  inlKibitants  of  t]ie  Rectory 
with  tlie  ceaseless  and  unprofitable  bustle,  the 
noisy  and  heartless  gaiety  of  the  circle  she  had 
recently  left :  but  lett  like  the  stricken  deer, 
with  the  barbed  arrow  accompanying  him  into 
the  very  abode  of  retirement  and  peace. 


vol..  T. 


26 


CHAPTER  III. 


WINTER  AMUSEMENTS. 


Notwithstanding  the  awe  with  which 
a  character  so  entirely  new  to  her  had,  at  first, 
inspired  Catherine,  a  very  few  days  sufficed  to 
make  her  feel  perfectly  at  ease  with  her  father's 
guest,  who,  on  his  part  seemed,  from  the 
moment  of  his  arrival,  quite  at  home  under  the 
roof  of  the  worthy  man  who  had  early  gained 
his  confidence  and  always  retained  his  esteem. 


Winter  amusements*  27 

The  quiet  habits,  early  hours,  and  simple 
pleasures  of  the  rectory,  suited  Colonel  Hamil- 
ton's state  of  health,  and  the  season  of  the  year 
favoured  his  wishes  for  privacy,  by  converting, 
for  a  time,  what  might  always  be  deemed  re- 
tirement into  absolute  seclusion. 

To  Mr.  Neville  and  his  daughter,  the  insula- 
tion which  rain  and  snow  and  bad  roads  im- 
posed upon  them,  presented  nothing  of  dulness 
or  privation  ;  but  to  most  men  of  fashion  it 
would  have  appeared  something  much  akin  to 
annihilation  :  happily  for  Hamilton,  years  spent 
in  all  the  frivolities  of  dissipation  had  not  effaced 
the  impressions  of  his  youth  ;  his  understand- 
ing, naturally  good,  had  been  improved  by  an 
excellent  education,  and  he  had  only  to  be 
thrown  upon  his  own  resources,  to  find  that 
those  resources  still  remained  to  him,  a  little 
rusted,  indeed,  by  disuse,  but  fully  capable  of 
.  being  brougbt  into  play  again,  under  the  favour- 
er 2 


28  WINTER    A3IUSFIVIENTS. 

iijg   circumstances  of  social   feeling  and   con- 
geniality of  taste. 

Catherine  Neville's  character  presented  that 
rare  combination  of  the  utmost  simplicity  of 
feminine  attributes  and  pursuits,  with  a  grasp 
of  mind,  and  a  tliirst  for  information,  which 
might  have  classed  lier  intellect  with  that  of 
masculine  strength,  had  not  the  warmth  of  her 
affections,  and  the  vivacity  of  her  imagination, 
shed  over  it  tlje  "purple  light"  which  though 
it  may  somewhat  interfere  with  correctness  of 
outline,  yet  renders  even  indistinctiicss  a  grace* 
It  was  the  exa- 1  balance  between  lier  head  and 
heart,  that  made  Catl.eriue  evei  y  thing  tliat  was 
valuable  and  delightful;  her  afllclions  vrould 
have  found  the  circle  in  wliich  tlsey  !<a{l  lo  :ict, 
far  too  narrow  for  their  exercise,  l)ad  sh.c  de- 
pended solely  on  them  for  her  happiness;  but 
then  her  understanding  came  to  her  aid,  and 
again,  ere  the  general  superiority  of  her  acquire- 


WINTER    AMUSEMENTS.  *29 

meiits  could  inspire  lier  with  aiiytliing  like  dis- 
taste for  her  associates,  or  a  sense  of  loveliness 
in  herself,  too  often  the  task  on  refinement, 
"above  proof"  her  sweet  affections  asserted 
their  power,  and  linked  her  sympathies  with 
those  of  even  the  dullest  of  her  acquaintance, 
the  liumblest  of  her  dependents. 

Still  Catherine  would  have  found  Nethercrosp, 
and  its  adjoining  hamlets,  a  very  confined  scene 
for  her  enquiring  mind  and  ardent  fancy,  had 
she  not,  fortunately  for  her,  created  a  world  to 
herself  in  her  studies,  which,  at  all  reasonable 
intervals  between  her  domestic  duties,  being  old- 
fashioned  enough  to  make  them  her  daily  and 
primary  consideration,  she  pursued  under  the 
direction  of  her  father,  who  habitually  and  un- 
consciously imparted  to  her,  the  sound  princi- 
ples and  taste  by  which  his  own  reading  had 
been  regulated.  The  Church  History  and  Po- 
lemics, however,  which  formed  a  large  portion 
of  his  literary  stores,  would  have  been  rather  too 


30  WINTER    AMUSEMENTS. 

strong  a  trial,  even  for  Catherine's  perseverance, 
without  any  admixture  of  lighter  matter;  never- 
theless, no  romance  of  a  more  modern  date,  than 
good  Bishop  Heliodorus'  "  Theagenes  and  Cha- 
riclea  "  was  to  he  found  amongst  them,  and  the 
circulating  library  at  the  nearest  market-town, 
shehadcompletely  exhausted,  from  "Tlie  Abbot" 
down  to  *'Zeluco,"  in  her  first  half-year's 
subscription  to  it.  She  was  therefore  forced  to 
content  herself,  for  the  furtlier  exercise  of  her 
imagination,  with  the  translations  from  the 
ancient  poets,  which,  fortunately  for  her,  stood 
within  her  reach,  on  the  same  shelves,  side  by 
side,  with  the  originals.  Her  father,  passionately 
fond  of  the  classics  in  his  youtliful  days,  and 
still  justly  regarding  them  as  the  foundation  of 
all  poetic  taste  and  historical  knowledge,  de- 
lighted to  recal  in  his  daughter's  reading  his 
own  favourite  academic  pursuits :  he  taught  her 
to  trace  in  the  fictions  of  the  Greek  and  Roman 
bards,  their  connection  with  the  religion  and 


WINTER    AMUSEMENTS.  31 

history  of  their  countries ;  in  their  figures  and 
imagery,  the  alhisions  to  their  peculiar  customs 
and  ceremonies ;  and  in  their  sentiments  and 
reflections,  that  similarity  of  chequered  destiny, 
that  same  conviction  of  the  unsatisfactory 
nature  of  sublunary  things,  which  human  life 
and  human  reason  have  perpetually  exhibited 
amid  the  vicissitudes  of  revolving  ages.  Thus 
the  eager  relish  for  fiction,  which  in  all  youth- 
ful minds  is  attendant  on  lively  feelings,  became 
to  Catherine  a  foundation  for  the  acquisition  of 
the  most  important  truths  :  she  found  history, 
geography,  natural  and  revealed  religion,  all  im- 
perceptibly linked  with  the  reading  she  had 
originally  resorted  to,  only  for  amusement ;  and 
every  addition  she  thus  made  to  her  knowledge 
of  facts,  was  associated  most  delightfully  in  her 
mind,  with  some  grace  of  poesy,  some  happy 
illustration  of  her  father's,  or  some  endearing 
recollection  of  the  tranquil  hour,  in  which  it  had 
impressed  itself  on  her  memory. 


32  WINTER    AMUSE3IENTS. 

At  the  period  of  Colonel  Kamilton's  aniva), 
Catherine  was  in  the  midst  of  the  Greek  trage- 
dies whicli  she  was  eagerly  devouring  througli 
the  versions  of  Francklin  and  Potter.  He  was 
schalar  enough  to  comment  occasionally  with 
Mr.  Neville  upon  the  meaning  of  a  difficult 
passage  in  the  original,  and  poet  enough,  when 
he  was  in  good  humour,  to  put  a  beautiful  one 
into  very  tolerable  verse  for  Catherine  ;  and  the 
attention  she  paid  to  his  remarks,  gave  him  an 
interest  in  seeking  out  subjects  for  them,  and 
inspired  him  with  a  wish  to  recal  in  her  ad- 
miration, that  novelty  for  himself,  wl.ich  gives 
such  enviable  freshness  to  the  enjoyments  of  the 
young. 

There  is  something  so  beautiful  in  pure,  un- 
adulterated euthusiasm,  that  it  can  rarely  be 
contemplated  without  exciting  correspondent 
emotion.  It  was  impossible  for  Hamilton  to 
sit  beside  Catherine,  and  see  the  earnestness 
with  which   she  lent  her  imagination    to   the 


WINTER    AMUSEMENTS.  33 

tlieme  before  lier,  without  sometimes  partici- 
pating ill  the  delight  his  observations  contribu- 
ted to  awaken,  and  feeling  that  she  united  in 
lierself  the  loveliest  attributes  of  the  characters 
in  whom  she  took  so  much  interest : — the  filial 
duty  of  Antigone,  with  the  sisterly  affection  of 
Electra,  and  the  confiding  innocence  of  Iphi- 
geuia  ;  and  though  he  might  not  have  had  virtue 
enough  to  admire  very  warmly  any  one  of  these 
characteristics,  for  its  own  sake  alone,  yet  he 
could  not  help  acknowledging  to  himself  that 
such  an  attractive  combination  of  them  all  had 
not  before  fallen  within  his  observation  :  how- 
ever extensive  he  imagined  the  range  of  it  to  have 
been,  in  what  is  called,  by  a  very  doubtful  mode 
of  expression,  "  the  best  of  society." 

Hamilton,  however,  was  not  always  in  the 

liumour    to   be    either    pleased    or    agreeable. 

Sometimes  his  temper  was  fretted  by  letters, 

which   he  was    always  impatiently  expecting 

c  5 


34  WINTER    A3IUSEMENTS. 

sometimes  by  paragraphs  in  tlie  London  papers, 
which  were  regularly  sent  to  him,  at  least  it 
might  be  imagined  so  by  the  irritable  haste  with 
which  he  cut  out  the  offending  passages,  and  con- 
demned them  to  the  flames ;  and  sometimes  he 
suffered  so  severely  from  pain  in  his  arm,  occa- 
sioned by  a  fracture,  received,  as  he  said,  in  a  fall 
from  his  horse,  that  not  all  his  efforts  could  enable 
him  to  subdue  his  sense  of  anguish,  the  acuteness 
of  which  was  sufficiently  evident  in  his  counte- 
nance to  excite  the  commiseration  of  Catherine^ 
who  had  additional  motive  of  regret  for  his 
uneasiness,  in  the  suspension  it  occasioned  to 
their  readings,  which  became  every  day  a  source 
of  increasing  gratification  to  her. 

"  I  am  very  sorry  Colonel  Hamilton  was 
obliged  to  come  into  the  country  on  account  of 
his  health,"  said  she  to  her  father,  one  even- 
ing when  he  had  been  obliged  to  retire  earlier 
than  usual,  "  but    for  my  own  sake,    I   shall 


WINTER   AMUSEMENTS.  35 

always  be  glad  that  he  happened  to  come  when 
he  did.  It  is  so  fortunate  for  me  that  he  should 
like  just  the  same  kind  of  reading  that  I  do ; 
and  I  can  remember  his  remarks  so  well  ;  he 
has  such  an  animated  manner,  that  they  make 
quite  an  impression  on  my  mind :  I  shall  aU 
ways  be  thinking  of  the  books  we  have  read 
together,  when  he  is  gone.  He  will  begin  the 
Argonautics  with  me  to-morrow! — poor  Medea? 
I  know  I  shall  pity  her !  Jason  made  a  bad 
return  to  her  for  all  her  father's  hospitality. — 
Which  translation  is  the  best,  my  dear  father, 
Fawkes',  or  Preston's?"  i 

She  mounted  the  library  steps  as  she  spoke, 
to  look  for  both,  and  Mr.  Neville  smiled,  as  she 
lingered  over  each  before  she  descended ;  for  it 
appeared  to  him  only  as  yesterday  since  he  was 
performing  the  very  same  office  for  Hamilton, 
which  Hamilton  was  now  undertaking  for  his 
daughter  ;  and   he  never  failed,  when  he  found 


86  WINTER    AMUSEMENTS. 

him  thus  engaged  in  acting  the  part  of  precep- 
tor, to  rally  him  upon  having  a  much  more  re- 
spectful and  attentive  pupil  in  Catherine,  than 
he  himself  had  ever  heen  to  her  father. 


37 


CHAPTER  IV. 


THE  WINTER'S  WALK  AT  NOON, 


The  sedentary  amusements,  however,  of 
books,  a  game  of  chess,  and  a  composition  of 
Handel's,  Boyce's,  or  some  other  old  master, 
began  gradually  to  admit  of  a  little  change,  as 
the  rigour  of  the  winter  yielded  to  the  approach 
of  spring.  Catherine  was  accustomed  to  go 
out  whenever  the  weather  would  permit  her ; 
and  Sks  Hamilton  recovered  strength  he  found  it 


33  THE    WINTER*S   WALK    AT    NOON.. 

impossible  to  see  her  return  from  her  walks^ 
lier  complexion  glowing  with  exercise,  and 
breathing  freshness  all  around  her,  without 
wishing  to  share  in  them. 

"  YoQ  never  ask  me  to  go  any  where  with 
you,"  said  he,  one  day  to  her,  as  she  came  run- 
ning to  the  glass,  to  put  on  her  bonnet. 

''  Because  I  have  heard  you  say  a  hundred 
times,"  said  she,  ^  that  you  hate  to  stir  beyond 
the  gate — and  besides,"  she  added,  laughing, 
"  do  not  you  remember,  that  when  you  first 
came,  you  charged  me  not  to  be  too  civil?" 

"  And  so  to  punish  me  for  my  fear  that  you 
should  fatigue  yourself  that  way,  you  resolved 
you  would  not  be  civil  at  all.  But  suppose, 
now,  that  I  make  a  humble  tender  of  my  ser^ 
vices  as  your  escort,  you  will  not  reject  them  I 
hope." 

'^  No,"  said  Catherine,  "  I  shall  be  most 
proud  of  them."     And  accordingly  the  frogged 


THE    WINTER*S    WALK    AT    NOON.  39 

and  braided  great  coat  was  brought  out  of  llie 
closet,  where  all  the  winter  it  had  been  left, 

"  To  dull  forgetfulness  a  prey." 

and  the  gallant  Colonel  began  to  enclose  in  it 
his  exceedingly  handsome  person. 

"  I  dare  say  you  think  this  a  very  puppyish 
concern,"  said  he,  seeing  Catherine  smile  as  he 
fastened  the  last  strap,  with  a  careless  glance 
at  the  tout  ensemble,  "  Confess,  now,  that 
you  do." 

"  No  indeed,"  said  Catherine,  "  I  think  it 
exceedingly  handsome,  and  I  like  it  extremely. 
I  only  smile  at  the  idea  of  what  others  would 
think  of  it,  that  is  the  ploughmen  and  the 
crows,  for  we  shall  sec  nobody  else." 

"  Well  then,  their  clouted-shoe-ships  may  be 
very  much  obliged  to  me,  for  I  shall  frighten  the 
crows  away,  for  them,  so  they  may  carve  their 


farrows  without  fear  of  the  corn  being  stolen  out 

of  them." 

"  Ah,   that  sliall  be  added  to  the  reprint  of 

Sir  Thomas  Brown's  '  Vulgar  Errors,' "  said 
Catherine,  "  I  won't  have  my  favorite  *  saga- 
cious people'  the  crows,  libelled  as  thieves-^ 
they  only  follow  the  ploughmen  to  pick  up  the 
insects  that  wauld  devour  the  grain  them- 
selves." 

"  Extremely  considerate,'*  said  Hamilton, 
"  particularly  to  the  insects — but  merit  is  al- 
ways misunderstood.  I  never  interfered  in  my 
life,  to  prevent  mischief,  that  I  was  not  accused 
directly  of  being  the  author  of  it." 

Catherine  laughingly  condoled  with  him  on 
the  quantum  of  injustice  which,  in  that  case, 
he  must  have  met  with,  and  full  of  spirits^,  she 
led  the  way  up  to  the  heights  of  Castleberg. 
Arrived  there,  she  made  him  pause,  fearing 
that  he  might  be  fatigued,  to  look  on  the  scene, 
which  she  was  proud  of  shewing  him  for  the 


THE  winter's  walk  AT  NOON.     41 

first  time,  though  the  sweet  hreatli  of  spring 
had  scarcely  yet  "  unloosed  the  frost-bound 
soil,"  and  here  and  there  a  patch  of  still  un- 
melted  snow  contrasted  its  spotless  white  with 
the  dark  brown  of  a  winter's  fallow,  or  the 
tender  green  wliich  was  beginning  to  make  its 
appearance  in  more  slieltered  situations  ;  but  on 
every  naked  spray  a  thousand  gelid  drops 
glittered  to  the  sun-beams,  and  supplied  the 
place  of  foliage,  whilst  the  soft  note  of  the 
wood-lark  was  occasionally  heard,  as  if  in  emu- 
lation of  the  ploughboy's  lengthened  whistle. 
Hamilton  looked  on  all  around,  with  more 
pleasure  than  lie  had  been  sensible  of  for  years 
before ;  but  he  had  now,  in  addition  to  the 
gratification  which  even  the  most  vitiated 
minds  will  at  times  unconsciously  imbibe,  from 
the  calm  contemplation  of  nature,  a  source  of 
enjoyment  more  immediately  associated  with 
himself,  in  the  delightful  sensations  of  return- 
ing health  ;  under  the  influence  of  which  every 


42         THE  winter's  walk  at  noon. 

gale  seemed  redolent  of  sweets,  every  sound 
frouglit  with  harmony. 

*'  I  have  not  enjoyed  a  walk  so  much  since 
I  was  your  father's  pupil,"  said  he ;  "  when  I 
used  to  leap  every  stile  and  ditch  I  came  to, 
with  my  head  full  of  the  Olympic  Games,  and 
my  new  hunter — " 

"  I  was  sure  you  would  be  pleased,"  said 
Cathertne,  "  when  once  you  took  the  resolution 
to  exert  yourself;  as  for  me,  I  am  never  so 
happy,  even  in  the  depth  of  winter,  as  when  I 
have  gained  this  summit,  and  look  down  on  all 
beneath  me,  with  such  delightful  feelings  of 
liberty." 

"  Oh  you — but  you  are  just  the  model  for  a 
Goddess  of  the  Mountains ;"  said  Hamilton, 
raising,  for  a  moment,  an  eye-glass  splendidly 
mounted,  and  surveying  her  blooming  counte- 
nance, and  finely  turned  figure,  as  the  fresh 
breeze  lifted  the  curls  from  her  forehead,  and 
just  played  enough  with   her  drapery  to  shew 


THE    V/lNTEll's    ^\  ALK    AT    NOON.  43 

every  grace  of  lier  form  to  new  advantage. 
Catherine  slightly  blushed  under  his  gaze,  but 
it  expressed  so  little  beyond  mere  critical  ex- 
amination, that  the  heightened  colour  was  but 
for  the  instant. 

"  Do  you  see  our  village,"  said  she,  "  below 
to  the  left  ?" 

"  Ah,  yes,  I  see  the  tower — " 

"  And  the  old  oak  beside  it,  I  hope ;  for  we 
are  very  proud  of  that  oak,  tliere  are  so  few  in 
Craven ;  indeed  we  call  the  ash  the  Craven 
oak.  And  there  is  the  snug  little  Rectory, 
peeping  from  under  the  shelter  of  its  branches  ; 
you  see  we  are  great  people  at  Nethercross ;  not 
another  slated  roof  in  the  place.  My  father 
says,  rightly  enough,  anybody  may  be  at  the 
top  of  one  circle,  by  descending  a  single  step 
from  the  bottom  of  another." 

"  Ah,  yes  !  he  is  too  wise  to  like  the  dregs 
of  anything :  but  whose  is  that  large  house,  of 
white  stone,  at  the  top  of  what   I  suppose,   in 


tlie  summer,  may  be  an  avenue,  but  wliich 
now  Jooks  like  double  rows  of  giganticj  naked 
lances  ?" 

"  Oh  that  is  Longcroft  Hall,  we  visit  the 
family  very  often  ;  but  we  are  a  little  dreggy 
there  sometimes  ourselves,  when  their  titled 
neiglibours  are  of  the  party  ;  though  Mr.  Long- 
croft  occasionally  insinuates  to  my  father,  very 
obligingly,  at  such  times,  that  he  wishes  always 
to  see  the  clergy  treated  with  respect  in  aU 
their  gradations.  *  Church  and  State,  Sir, 
Church  and  State'  "  he  says,  ''  'must  be  up- 
held together.'  " 

*'  Longcroft  !"  repeated  Hamilton,  "  aye,  I 
know  him  ;  a  formal  old  gentleman  enough  !  I 
remember  he  was  always  talking  of  his  seat  in 
Yorkshire.  So  that's  the  place. — Is  he  there 
now  ?" 

'•  Yes ;  he  always  spends  Christmas  among 
his  tenants.  We  dined  there  just  before  you 
came  to  us.     His  daughter   is  a   very  elegant 


THE    winter's    walk    AT    NOON.  45 

aiul  aceompllsliecl  young  woman.  I  think  you 
would  be  greatly  pleased  witli  her." 

Hamilton  bowed  for  the  implied  compliment, 
but  thought  to  himself,  tliat  he  did  not  come 
into  tlie  country  to  see  those  who  passed  for 
elegant  and  accomplished  young  women  among 
their  humble  neighbours. 

"  Rattles  through  a  concerto  of  Cramer's,  I 
suppose,  and  sings  something  not  English,  that 
the  good  people  fancy  Italian,  and  dances  a 
waltz  by  herself,  and  christens  her  grand- 
mother's cotillions  quadrilles,  I  shall  take  care 
to  keep  out  of  the  way  of  these  Longcrofts ;  I 
want  to  know  no  more  of  them." 

Whilst  lie  made  this  resolution,  Fate  made 
another;  for  at  that  very  moment  Catherine 
exclaimed  : — 

"  x\h,  yonder  is  Edward  Longcroft,  with  his 
dogs ;  how  pretty  they  look  running  about,  at 
the  bottom  of  the  hill  !" 

"  Very  pretty  indeed  !  and  so  does  the  gentle 


swain  himself,  with  his  gun  over  his  sh.oulder  : 
but  as  I  am  in  no  humour  to  make  new  ac- 
cjuaintance,  do  have  the  charity  to  let  us  take  a 
circuitous  route,  and  avoid  the  enemy." 

"  Very  well,  I  dare  say  all  parties  will  be 
quite  as  well  pleased." 

"  Not  all  parties,  I  should  suppose,"  said 
Hamilton,  with  that  habitual  gallantry  which 
becomes  a  part  of  the  very  nature  of  a  pro- 
fessed man  of  the  world,  "  unless  this  Long- 
croft  junior,  has  very  early  imbibed  the  pru- 
dent maxim, 

''Where  you  cannot  conquer,  learn  to  fiy." 

"  He  is  flying  now,"  said  Catherine, 
laughing;  "see  how  obligingly  he  takes  the 
very  opposite  path  to  that  which  would  bring 
him  towards  us." 

<*  Ah,  he  is  aware  of  the  advantage  we  have 


THE    winter's    walk    AT    NOON.  47 

over  him.  Well,  if  ever  I  have  to  bring  my 
regiment  into  Craven,  I  will  take  care  to  se- 
cure this  exalted  station  for  it ;  and  then  let  the 
rebellious  ones  in  the  valley  beware  ." 

*'  Ah  !  if  you  had  heard  my  poor  grand- 
mother describe  the  enthusiastic  feeling  that 
ran  through  all  Craven,  when  Prince  Charles 
Edward,  the  Pretender,  sought  shelter  here, 
you  would  begin  to  think  you  were  in  the  very 
country  for  chivalry  and  enterprize." 

"  I  flatter  myself  I  give  a  proof  of  thinking 
so,  when  I  talkof  bringing  my  regiment  into  it, 
you  have  no  notion  what  a  set  of  heroic  figures 
it  affords." 

At  that  moment  Edward  Longcroft,  sud- 
denly striking  out  of  a  little  copse,  stood  before 
them — he  was  going  to  address  Catherine  with 
the  ease  which  many  year's  acquaintance  gave 
him  a  right  to  assume  towards  her ;  but  when 
his  eye  rested  on  Colonel  Hamilton,  an  expres- 
sion of  surprise  passed  over  his  countenance, 


48  THE    winter's    walk    at    NOON'. 

and  lie  merely  took  of  liis  hat  en  passant^  and 
walked  on. — Catherine  coloured,  for  she  felt  as 
if  lie  had  put  a  slight  upon  her,  in  the  presence 
of  Hamilton,  but  when  she  looked  at  her  com- 
panion, she  saw  that  he  wa^  thinking  of  any 
thing  rather  than  of  her;  until  recollecting 
himself,  he  said  with  an  affectation  of  entire 
ignorance  respecting  him  :  — 

*'  I  presume  that  young  man  is  the  son  of 
Mr.  Longcroft." 

**  No,  he  is  only  his  nephew  ;  but  he  is  his 
acknowledged  heir,  and  the  world  has  given 
Miss  Longcroft,  his  uncle's  only  child,  to  him." 

"Yes,  I  suppose,  tlie  world  of  Craven  is  as 
considerate  as  the  world  of  any  otlier  m'cridian, 
it  finds  out  what  would  be  conveiiient — and 
kindly  converts  it  into  the  probable.  But 
what  does  the  doughty  youth  say  to  the  arrange- 
ment? he  looks  as  if  he  would  make  his  own 
choice,  in  spite  of  the  world,  or  his  uncle,  or 
)us  cousin  into  the  bargain." 


THE   winter's    walk    AT   NOON.  49 

*'  Oh,  I  do  not  know  ;  he  was  always  very 
fond  of  his  Cousin,  and  so  he  is  still,  I  dare 
say ;  but  we  do  not  see  much  of  him  now — 
he  used  to  come  to  the  Rectory  very  often, 
before  my  sister  was  married;  but  the  last  two 
years  he  has  seemed  <)uite  altered  ;  his  uncle  is 
very  proud,  and  I  am  afraid  Edward  is  growing 
like  him." 

These  words  brought  them  to  the  little  gate, 
which  opened  on  the  lawn  before  the  Rectory, 
and  by  the  time  he  had  entered  the  house, 
Hamilton  found  out,  that,  after  all,  walking  in 
the  country  was  a  great  bore. 

'*  One  goes  out,"  said  he  to  himself,  "  with- 
out the  hope  of  meeting  a  civilized  being,  and 
tlien  is  sure,  at  last,  to  stumble  upon  some 
blockhead  that  one  would  have  gone  ten  miles 
to  avoid." 

"  What  a  delightful  walk  we  have  had  !" 
said  Catherine,  equally  soliloquizing  herself, 
"  IjOW  beautiful  the  country  begins  to  look  al- 

VOL.    I.  D 


30  THE    winter's    walk    AT    NOON. 

ready !  and  then  it  is  so  pleasant  to  see  a  face 
one  knows,  in  one's  rambles  !  I  am  glad  we 
met  Edward  Longcroft." 

So  much  for  the  different  frames  of  mind  in 
which  events,  great  or  small,  may  be  regarded, 
and  the  inferences  deduced  accordingly. 


5\  .^ 


CHAPTER  \\ 


MORNING  CALLS. 


Nothing  is  more  annoying  to  a  spoiled 
child  of  fortune  than  to  be  thwarted  in  any 
point,  however  trifling,  where  he  has  made 
himself  sure  of  having  his  own  way.  Hamil- 
ton was  so  mortified  that  Edward  Longcrcjft, 
whom  he  knew  much  more  of  than  he  cljose  to 
acknowledge,  should  find  him  out  in  a  nook  of 
D  2 

LIBRARY 

JINIVERSITY  OF  ILLINuio 


52  MORNING   CALLS. 

• 

whatever  time  he  pleased,  lay  aside  a  celebrity 
that  had  of  late  been  somewhat  troublesome  to 
him,  that  the  next  day  he  resolved  neither  sun- 
shine, nor  southern  breezes,  nor  ploughman's 
whistle,  nor  wood-lark's  song,  nor  even  Cathe- 
rine's provoking  air  of  healthful  enjoyment 
should  tempt  him  forth  again. 

"  She  is  a  lovely  girl,"  said  he  to  himself, 
"  and  happy  in  being  so  cheaply  and  so 
innocently  pleased — but  she  must  scale  the 
mountain  top,  or  wander  in  the  valley  alone 
for  me.  It  is  rather  too  much  of  a  joke  to 
be  seen  playing  the  Corydon  to  my  tutor's 
daughter !  I  should  not  exactly  like  such  a 
proof  of  my  taste  to  get  to  Lady  Charlotte's 
ears."  How  far  his  perceptions  of  shame  were 
ill  or  well  called  forth  the  future  must  de- 
termine; for  his  meditations  were  put  to  flight, 
for  the  time  being,  by  the  entrance  of  the 
world   where   he   had  imagined   he  could,  for 


MORNING   CALLS.  53 

Catherine   herself,   who   held   in   her   hand  a 
daffodil  in  full  bloom. 

"  There,"  said  she,  proffering  it  to  him, 
^'  there  is  a  prize  ! 

*  Ask  me  why  I  bring  you  here, 
The  firstling  of  the  infant  year  ?'  " 

"  Ah !"  said  he,  extending  his  hand,  and 
taking  it  from  hers  with  much  the  same  sort  of 
air  which  offended  Hotspur,  so  greatly,  in  a 
*  certain  Lord,' 

"  Who  held  betwixt  his  finger  and  his  thumb 
A  pouncet  box,  which  ever  and  anon. 
He  gave  his  nose,  and  took't  away  again." 

"  This  is  indeed,  one  of  the  tribe — 

"  That  come  before  the  swallow  dares,  and  take 
The  winds  of  March  with  beauty." 

"  are   there   any  more   of  the  race   so  preco- 


cious : 


?» 


"  Come  along  with  me,"  said  she,  "  come 


54  MORNING    CALLS. 

and  look  by  the  side  of  the  little  stream  that 
runs  through  the  garden." 

"  This  girl,  after  all,  can  do  whatever  she 
likes  with  me,"  thought  Hamilton,  as  he  rose 
with  affected  effort,  from  the  chair  which  he 
had  just  before  vowed  to  himself  nothing  should 
induce  him  to  stir  from,  until  it  was  time  to 
dress  for  dinner.  Away  they  went  to  the  brook, 
and  found  Mr.  Neville  standing  there,  looking 
at  the  daffodils  with  all  the  delight  of  the  poet 
whose  words  were  on  his  lips. 


"  I  wandered  lonely  as  a  cloud, 
That  tilts  on  high,  o'er  vales  and  hills. 
When  all  at  once  I  saw  a  crowd, 
A  host  of  dancing  daffodils. 
Bedde  the  lake,  beneath  the  trees. 
Fluttering  and  dancing  near  the  trees. 

Continuous  as  the  stars  that  shine. 
And  twinkle  in  the  milky  way. 
They  stretched  in  never  ending  line, 
Along  the  margin  of  a  bay. 
Ten  thou  sand  saw  I  at  a  glance 
Tossing  their  heads  in  sprightly  dance. 


MORNING    CALLS.  35 

The  waves  beside  them  danced,  but  they 

Oat-did  the  sparkling  wa\es  in  glee, 

A  poet  could  not  but  be  gay, 

In  such  a  jocund  company. 

I  gazed  and  gazed,  but  little  thought, 

What  wealth  to  me  the  shew  had  brought. 

For  oft  when  on  my  couch  \  lie 
In  vacant  or  in  pensive  mood, 
They  flash  upon  that  inward  eye 
Which  is  the  bliss  of  solitude. 
And  then  my  heart  with  pleasure  fills 
And  dances  with  the  daffodils," 


Hamilton  was  so  unused  to  hear  Words^ 
worth  quoted  in  any  other  tone  than  that  of 
ridicule,  or  absurd  parody,  that  he  was  amazed 
to  hear  his  old  tutor,  whose  taste  he  revered, 
not  more  from  habit  than  experience  of  its 
correctness,  repeat  these  lines  with  the  enthu- 
siasm of  Catherine  herself,  and  conclude  them 
with  a  panegyric  on  their  author,  as  having 
formed  a  new  scltool  in  poetry,  and  finding 

"  Books  in  the  running  brooks. " 

Sermons  in  stones  and  good  in  ev'ry  thing."' 


56  >iailNING    CALLS. 

This  was  what  Hamilton  could  not  do;  he 
could  read  the  world — he  was  fond  of  analysing 
the  hun>an  mind,  as  far  as  wordly  conduct  was 
affected  by  its  peculiarities,  and  he  loved  the 
higher  productions  of  it  which  he  could  bring 
within  Lord  Bacon's  axiom,  "  That  knowledge 
is  power,"  but  nature  and  solitude  spoke  to 
him  in  a  dead  language ;  and  he  might  say  of 
them  as  Jolinson  did  of  musical  sounds,  that  he 
could  scarcely  say  whether  he  was  sensible  of 
any  effect  at  all  from  them  ;  if  he  were,  it  was, 
he  thought,  a  kind  of  melancholy — In  short,  he 
saw  very  little  difference  between  Wordsworth's 
poetry,  and  Leigh  Hunt's  caricature  of  it  when 
he  speaks  of, 

"  Some  lines  he  had  made  on  a  straw, 
Sliewing  where  he  had  found  it,  and  what  it  was  for ; 
And  how  when  'twas  balanced  it  stood  like  a  spell ; — 
And  how  when  'twas  balanced  no  longer  it  fell ; — 
A  wild  thing  of  sconi  he  described  it  to  be  ; — 
But  said  it  was  patient  to  heaven's  decree, 
Then  he  gazed  upon  nothing,  and  looking  forlorn, 
Dropt  a  natural  tear  for  that  wild  thing  of  scorn.'  " 


MORNING    CALLS.  51 

"  Well  sir,  what  do  you  think  of  our  daflfo- 
dils  ?"  said  Mr.  Neville,  pointing  to  them  exult- 
ingl y,  "  are  they  not  enough  to  inspire  a  poet  ?" 

'*  I  am  not  poet  enough  to  answer  the  ques- 
tion," said  Hamilton,  "but  I  remember  the 
eldest   of    poets    says    they   make   very   good 


"  Ah  ha  !"  said  Mr.  Neville,  "  I  am  glad  you 
have  not  forgot  old  Hesiod — true  enough — I 
remember  he  says, 

^  'PiXrad'  * Apfio8t\  ov  rt  irov  TeBvrjKas  'tc  t.  X.' 

that  is  to  say,  ^liss  Catherine,  '  few  are  aware 
of  tlie  virtue  tliat  may  lie  in  such  humble  re- 
pasts as  tlie  mallow  and  the  daffodil  can  offer.' 
I  rather  think,  however,  we  shall  find  a  receipt 
for  daffodil  wine  in  our  manuscript  collection 
of  a  *  Hundred  Notable  Things,'  though  I  be- 
lieve it  does  not  pretend  to  be  from  quite  such 
high  authority—but,  however,  I  did  not  think 
D  5 


58  MORNING   CALLS. 

of  getting  into  Greek,  when  I  quoted  Words-v 
worth." 

"  Nor  I  of  hearing  any  thing  like  commou 
sense  spring  out  of  a  quotation  from  him,"  said 
Hamilton*  "  Not  but  that  all  he  says  may  be 
very  fine,  but  I  am  of  aaoth^r  school —  I  am  a. 
Byronian — he  is  the  only  man  that  is  read  in 
Town — those  Lakists  that  go  and  make  faces  at 
themseh^es  on  the  waveless  w^aters,  and  then 
run  home  to  put  their  reflections  upon  papei* 
are  quite  out- voted  now ;  even  the  ladies  never 
think  of  them." 

"  No,  I  suppose  not,"  said  ]Mr.  NeviHe,  "  any 
more  than  thoy  would  think  of  seeing  liay- 
makers  in  theii'  verandas,  or  a  sheep  sheai'ing 
in  their  drawing-roo«is..  But  '  the  cliildren  of 
darkness  are  wiser  in  their  generation  than  the 
children  of  light,'  and  he  who  sings  of  nothing 
but  lawless  crimes,  and  sated  vices,  does  wisely 
to  address  his  song  to  the  inhabitants  of  an 
overgrown  and  luxurious  metropolis." 


MORNING    CALLS.  59 

*'  Yes,  yes;  he  is  sure  enough  of  sympathy, 
plenty  of  dancing  daffodils  there,  —  only  of 
rather  an  opposite  species.  What  do  you  say 
Miss  Neville,  do  you  like  the  titled  Bard  ?" 

"  Quite  well  enough,  as  a  poet,  to  wish  he 
had  made  clioice  of  better  subjects.  Edward 
Longcroft  says  he  has  in  him  a  fragment  of 
almost  every  other  poet's  distinguishing  excel- 
lence, but  unfortunately  his  own  genius  is  only 
a  fragment  itself,  and,  therefore,  he  produces 
nothing  but  fragments  after  all." 

"  Very  wise  in 'Mr.  Longcroft — I  dare  say  he 
could  prove  every  thing  he  says  most  mathe- 
matically ;  but  I  fancy  he  will  find  the  gene- 
rality of  his  acquaintance  admii-e  diamond 
sparks  more  than  brick-bats — though  one  is 
only  a  part,  and  the  other  a  whole." 

"  Very  good  !  very  good  !"  said  Mr.  Neville, 
"  but  who  have  we  here?"  he  added,  as  he 
looked  towards  the  little  gate.  "  Ah  ha  !  here 
he  is  himself —now  we  can  have  diamond  sparks 


60  MORNING    CALLS. 

versus  brick-bats,   as  long  as  you  like,  and  see 
wlio  has  the  better  of  the  argument." 

It  was  indeed  Edward  Longcroft  and  his 
cousin  Louisa.  Catherine  flew  to  meet  them, 
and  held  out  her  hand  to  each,  Louisa  seized 
it  with  the  utmost  cordiality ;  but  Edward 
scarcely  touched  the  tips  of  Iter  fingers,  and 
she  withdrew  them,  somewhat  indignantly;  con- 
vinced that  he  was  actually  become  quite  as 
proud  as  his  uncle,  and  would  soon  be  as  dis- 
agreeable. 

"  What  a  pity  it  is  that  people  should  alter 
so  !"  This  reflection  was  made  in  the  moment 
that  bows  were  exchanging  between  the  Long- 
crofts  and  Hamilton,  who  was  introduced  to 
them,  by  Mr.  Neville,  as  his  particular  friend, 
but  who  having  his  own  private  reasons  for  not 
wishing  to  extend  his  acquaintance  just  then, 
put  on  a  look  of  polite  indifference,  which  was 
amply  returned  by  Edward  Longcroft,  and 
went  into  the  house,  as  soon  as  he  could,  without 


MORNING    CALLS.  61 

positive  rudeness^  withdraw  himself  from  the 
party.  Now  this  was  somewliat  provoking,  as 
Hamilton  was  right  enougli  in  imagining  him- 
self the  magnet  which  liad  diawn  tlie  Long- 
crofts  to  the  Rectory  that  morning ;  though  he 
was  not  altogether  as  correct  in  ascertaining 
their  motives.  To  such  of  our  readers  as  may 
be  unfortunate  enough  to  know  notliing  about 
the  hospitality  which  increases  in  this  kingdom 
exactly  in  the  proportion  to  the  distance  that 
those  who  may  require  its  aid  are  travelling 
northward  from  the  metropolis,  it  may  not  be 
amiss  to  give  the  information,  that  in  the  dis- 
trict of  Craven,  where  we  have  already  de- 
scribed the  Rectory  of  Nethercross  to  be 
situated,  it  is  the  laudable  custom  of  the  in- 
habitants, on  the  arrival  of  a  stranger  at  any  of 
the  villages  which  are  so  thickly  scattered  over 
its  beautiful  vallies,  immediately  to  shew  their 
neighbourly  consideration  and  regard  by  invit- 
ing the  family  with  whom  he  may  be  taking  up 


62  MORNING    CALLS. 

liis  abode ;  and  tlius  giving  themselves,  in  turn, 
an  equal  claim  upon  a  similar  act  of  kindness, 
whensoever  tliey  may  require  it  for  tlieir  guests. 
Louisa  Lonjjcroft,  though  movino^  in  the  most 
fashionable  circles  in  London,  never  thought  of 
augmenting  her  consequence  in  the  country  by 
airs  of  superiority  over  any  one ;  and  least  of 
all  over  the  Nevilles,  whom  she  thoroughly 
esteemed  not  only  for  their  own  sakes,  but  also 
for  the  sake  of  Mrs.  Neville,  whose  remem- 
brance was^  inseparably  associated  in  her  mind 
with  t!iat  of  her  own  mother,  whose  '^'schoolday 
friendship "  with  her  had  matured  into  an 
esteem  which  contiaued  unabated  till  her  death. 
1^0  sooner,  therefore,  did  Edward  mention 
having  met  Colonel  Hamilton  with  Cathe- 
rine, the  day  before,  th.an  Louisa  proposed 
to  go  directly  to  the  Rectory,  to  invite 
the  whole  party  to  spend  a  day  at  the  Hall, 
bor  father  agreed  to  it,  partly  from  re- 
spect   to   the  antique   hospitality  of  the  district, 


MORNING    CALLS.  63 

and  partly  from  knowing  liiin  to  be  tlie  pre- 
sumptive heir  to  tlie  Earldom  of  Winterdale — 
and  Edward  offered  to  accompany  his  cousin, 
not  less  from  habitual  attention  to  her  than 
from  certain  feelings  respecting  Hamilton, 
which  he  was  not  very  fond  of  analysing  to 
himself,  and  took  good  care  not  to  communicate 
to  any  other  person. 

"  Why  have  not  we  seen  you  at  the  Hall," 
said  Louisa  to  Catherine—-"  I  thought  you 
would  be  glad  to  come  to  us  when  your  sister 
left  you." 

"And  so  I  should,  but  I  have  scarcely  had 
time  evep  to  miss  her — for  Colonel  Hamilton 
came  to  us  the  very  day  after  she  went  away, 
and  he  has  been  till  very  lately  so  entirely  con- 
fined to  tlie  house,  that  I  kave  been  kept  always 
occupied,  in  one  way  or  other  about  him." 

"Aye,"  said  Mr.  Neville,  "an  awkward 
business  that  arm  of  his — but  however  he  is 
getting  quite  well  now — and  I  hope  it  will  all 


64  MORNING    CALLS. 

be  for  liis  good.  A  very  clever  man,,  and  a, 
warm-hearted  man,  too ;  naturally — but  the 
world,  the  world  !  oh 'dear  !  we  are  all  well  oif. 
that  are  not  within  its  vortex," 

"  I  dont  know  that,"  said  Edward — '« A  man, 
may  contrive  to,  drown  himself  in  a  horse-pond 
as  well  as  in  the  sea,-— The  world  will  not  d.e-^ 
stroy  native  rectitude,  any  more  than  the  fire 
will  scorch  a  salamander." 

"  Yet  the  poor  salamander  runs  round  and 
round,"  said  Catherine,  ''  as  if  it  knew  its 
danger." 

"And  therein  consists  its  safety,"  said  Ed-. 
ward,  '^  for  if  it  did  not  know  tliat,  it  would 
run  at  once  into  the  flames — I  should  never  be 
uneasy  for  the  wolfare  of  any  one  who,  I  saw, 
was  aware  of  the  existence  of  danger."  He 
spoke  those  words  in  a  tone  of  agitation  un- 
usual with  him — his  cousin  looked  towards 
him  with  some  surprise ;  and  Catherine  again 
thought    "  how    very  odd    he   grew,"  but  her 


MORNING    CALLS.  6& 

fother  who  was  often  reminded  of  things  by 
tlieir  opposites,  cried  out, — 

"Now  we  talk  of  salamanders,  look  at  the 
bottom  of  this  old  stump,  and  you  will  see  the 
nest  of  dormice  I  skewed  you  in  the  beginning 
of  winter-^this  warm  sun  has  made  them  begin 
to  peep  about  them  again  !" 

After  a  turn  or  two  round  the  garden  tliey 
all  returned  to  the  house,  where  they  found 
Hamilton  apparently  very  busy  with  a  volume 
of  Giblx)n :  but  secretly  tired  of  playing  the 
student  alone,  and  not  at  all  sorry  for  ai^  oppor-. 
tunity  of  again  exhibiting  the  civil  ennui  which 
he  was  very  fond  of  displaying,  when  he  did 
not  feel  his  vanity  roused  to  any  more  active 
excitement  of  attention. 

After  half-an-hour's  cliat,  which  Hamilton 
found  could  be  carried  on  very  well,  even 
though  he  had  the  cruelty  to  refrain  from 
taking  any  share  in  it.  The  Longcrofts  took 
their  leave,  with  a  promise  from  the  Nevilles 


66  MORNING    GALLS. 

that  they  would  fix  an  early  day  for  their  visit 
to  the  Hall. 

The  door  was  no  soo^ner  closed,  than  Hamil- 
ton throwing  himself  hack  in  his  chairj  said 
"  I  suppose  it  would  be  deemed  a  crying  sin 
ever  to  say  'not  at  home,'  to  any  of  the  good 
people  who  walk  three  or  four  miles  to  make  a 
morning  call,  and  then  require  as  many  hours 
to  rest  themselves ;  but  I  think  I  should  some-^ 
times  sport  oafe  if  I  found  myself  in  danger  of 
being  besieged  so  unmercifully." 

"Do  you  mean  that  you  would  take  a  cudgel 
to  them  ?"  said  Catherine,  laugliing. 

"  No  my  dear,"  explained  her  father,  '^  to 
sport  oak,  is  to  keep  aut  the  vulj^ar ;  as  Horace 
says,  '  Procul  este  j^rofani ;'  in  plain  English  to 
shut  the  door — but  Colonel  Hamilton  forgets 
that  one  great  privilege  of  living  in  the  country 
is,  that  we  need  only  form  intimacies  with  those 
we  like.  We  do  not  say  '  at  home'  to  a  hun- 
dred people  we  care  nothing  about,  any  more 


•  MORNING    CALLS.  67 

than  we  should  tliiiik  of  saying  not  '  at  home' 
to  friends  who  we  really  conceive  shew  their 
good-'.will  by  taking  the  trouble  to  come  to 
see  us." 

"  Ah  !  my  dear  sir,  you  must  forgive  me — 
I  shall  never  be  what  your  lessons  ought  long 
ago  to  have  made  me—  unless  Catherine  will 
take  me  in  hand.  I  have  learned  a  great  deal 
from  her  already,  and  the  more  she  teaches  me, 
the  better  I  shall  be  for  it.." 

This  was  precisely  the  kind  of  compliment 
to  touch  the  feelings  of  her  to  whom  it  was 
addressed  ;  and  as  she  raised  her  eyes  to  him,  to 
see  if  he  were  in  earnest,  when  he  uttered  it, 
they  beamed  with  such  undisguised  pleasure 
that  he  wondered  their  soft  yet  stedfast  brilli- 
ancy had  not  before  struck  him  as  uncommonly 
beautiful. 

'*  That  Master  Longcroft  might  well  draw  up 
his  head,"  thought  he  to  himself,  "  and  measure 
me  from  head  to  foot,  and  then  look  into  her 


tSv  MORNING    CAL5,S;. 

yery  eyes,  as  if  he  would  see  whether  I  had 
mside  any  impression  upon  her  fancy." 

Few  men  would  have  needed  any  other  in- 
ducement to  admire  Catherine  Neville-  than  the 
daily  opportunity  of  witnessing  her  native 
graces,  and  the  thousand  amiable  qualities 
which  unconsciously  rendered  her  the  delight 
of  all  who  came  within  her  influence.  But 
unfortunately  Hamilton  had  lived  so  long  in 
thiB  world,  that  he  never  thought  of  admiring 
any  thing  for  its  own  sake ;  and  a  single  glance 
from  Edward  Longcroft,,  the  heir-iq)parent  to 
the  greatest  landed  property  in  the  district,  had 
given  Catherine  more  importance  in  a  moment, 
in  his  eyes,  than  all  her  own  attractions,  and 
the  attentions  she  had,  paid  him  as  her  father's 
guest,  had  done  during  the  two  months  he  had 
been,  under  the  same  roof  with  her. 

''And  &o  you  admire  the  Longcroft's  a- 
mazingly,"  said  he  to  Catherine,  when  they 
were  alone. 


AfOIlNmG    CALLS.  B^ 

<'Yes,  I  admire  them  both  exceedingly," 
^aid  she ;  "  my  father  says  Edward  is  a  most 
elegant  scholar — and  as  for  Lonisa,  I  should  be 
very  ungrateful  if  I  did  not  admire  her,  and 
love  her  too ;  for  she  has  taken  great  pains  with 
me — what  little  French  I  know,  is  entirely  of 
her  teaching;  and  even  in  my  music,  though 
my  father  grounded  me  pretty  well,  in  the 
theory,  yet  I  owe  all  the  fingering,  and  execu- 
tion of  any  difficult  passage  to  her." 

"  Oh  yes  !  and  most  likely  your  fine  ear,  and 
flexible  voice,  and  your  correct  taste,  are  all 
given  by  her — But  what  makes  her,  and  her 
inamorato  look  so  solemn  ?  do  they  always  wrap 
themselves  up  in  such  awful  majesty  ?" 

"  Louisa  is  always  rather  serious,  and  so  in- 
deed is  Edward — but  I  never  saw  him  look  so 
grave  as  he  did  this  morning.'* 

"  Except  yesterday  morning ;  when  I  think 
he  exhibited  much  the  same  degree  of  amiability 
iu  his  countenance." 


70  MORNING    CALLS. 

"  Well,  do  not  let  us  abuse  our  neighbours, 
as  soon  as  their  backs  are  turned;  that  does  not 
come  at  all  within  my  system  of  either  teach- 
ing or  learning — so  1  shall  run  away  and  feed 
my  chickens." 

"  No,  no ;"  cried  Hamilton,  catching  her 
hand  to  detain  her — ^'  stay,  and  give  me  some 
music — '  Acis  and  Galatea,'  that  very  soul  of 
pastoral  romance-  I  will  be  your  Polypheme." 

"  How  modest ;  and  pray  what  will  you  do 
Mr.  Polypheme  ?" 

"  I  will  drive  away  your  Acis,"  said  he,  and 
he  began, — 

"  Die  !  presumptuous  Acis,  die  !" 

Catherine  laughed,  hut  she  blushed  a  little 
too;  and  sitting  down  to  the  piano,  com- 
menced the  delightful  air, — 

"  Heart,  thou  seat  of  soft  delight, 
Be  thou  now  a  fountain  bright." 

Whilst  they  were  in  the  middle  of  it,  Hamil- 


MORNING    CALLS^  71 

ton  could  not  help  wondering  bow  it  happened 
tliat  he  invariably  felt  wearied  and  distrait,  at 
the  opera,  and  the  Harmonics,  and  Philhar- 
monics in  London  ;  and  yet  listened  with  such 
pleasure  in  Craven  to  the 

"  Native  wood  notes  wild." 

which  he  began  to  think,  at  any  rate  as  war- 
bled by  Catherine,  more  favourable  to  melody, 
than  all  the  execution  which,  in  awakening 
that  kind  of  admiration  that  is  born  of  wonder, 
puts  to  flight  the  chaster  offspring  of  taste  and 
feeling. 

"  You  are  so  fond  of  music,"  said  Catherine, 
when  she  had  finished,  ''you  must  be,  or  you 
would  not  be  able  to  bear  mine,  after  what  you 
hear  in  London  ; — such  delightful  concerts  ! — 
and  then  the  orchestras  at  the  theatres  ! — con- 
certs in  themselves. — And  the  Opera  !  oh  how 
charming  it  is  !  I  went  once,  when  I  was  in 
Town  with  my  sister,  after  her  marriage.     I 


72  MORNING    CALLS. 

did  not  get  it  out  of  my  head  for  weeks  after. 
Tliat  lovely  Catalani !  in  M  Clemenza  di  Tito — 
and  then  the  beautiful  Ballet  of  Cupid  and 
Psyche, — how  pretty  it  is  where  the  Graces 
teach  Psyche  to  dance,  and  she  instantly  dances 
a  tliousand  times  more  gracefully  than  them- 
selves.—  I  can  see  it  all  this  moment !" 

Hamilton  smiled  at  her  animation. 

"  Ah  Catherine  !"  he  exclaimed,  "  you  are 
an  enviable  being.  With  you  it  is  always  once ; 
that  expressive  word,  so  significative  of  novelty, 
of  zest,  of  every  thing  that  makes  life  delight- 
ful !  I  would  give  half  my  income,  nay,  half 
my  life  to  come,  if  I  could  say  once,  with  the 
same  feelings  that  you  do." 

TJje  little  gate  swung  again  upon  its  hinges, 
he  looked  up-^"  Heaven  give  me  patience  !"  he 
exclaimed. 

«^For  t>?ice,"  said  Catherine. 

"  Why  Catherine,  it  is  your  levee-day — who 
have  we  here  ?  I  positively  cannot  stand  another 


MORNING   CALLS.  73 

morning  call.'*  He  started  up  to  make  his 
exit,  but  ere  he  could  effect  it  he  was  nearly 
run  against  by  William  Brayswick,  who  rushed 
into  the  room,  whilst  his  sister  Fanny  was 
taking  off  her  clogs  in  the  passage, 

*'  Well,  Miss  Neville,  how  do  you  do?  I 
told  Fanny  I  would  have  the  first  shake  of  the 
hand,"  he  started  back  on  seeing  Hamilton, 
who  was  just  escaping  by  the  glass-door,  that 
opened  on  the  lawn.  Fanny  entered  the  minute 
after. 

"  Well  Catherine  dear  !  how  glad  I  am  to 
see  you  again  ;"  and  she  kissed  her,  before  she 
saw  any  one  else  in  the  room.  The  sight  of  a 
stranger  in  an  instant  checked  her  buoyancy, 
and  she  looked  as  demure  as  her  brother; 
whilst  Catherine,  after  affectionately  returning 
her  salute,  introduced  the  parties  to  each 
other. 

"  Colonel  Hamilton,  my  dear  Fanny — Miss 
Brayswick,  sir, — Mr.  William  Brayswick.'* 

VOL.   I.  E 


74  MORNING   CALLS. 

The  Colonel  made  an  obeisance  the  very 
ultra  of  profound,  and  the  next  moment  swung 
out  at  the  glass  door. 

"  My  gracious  !  Catherine  !  what  a  singular 
looking  man  !"  exclaimed  Fanny.  "  What 
makes  him  go  away  ?  Where  does  he  come 
from?" 

"  Singular  looking  man  !"  exclaimed  Cathe- 
rine, in  return.  "  That  is  a  very  singular  ex- 
pression to  apply  to  such  a  man  as  Colonel 
Hamilton  !" 

"  Oh,  is  that  Colonel  Hamilton,  that  your 
father  used  to  talk  of  so  often  ?  Well  my  dear, 
I  do  think  he  is  rather  singular  looking,  he  has 
such  immense  eyes.'* 

'*  Immense !"  repeated  Catherine  again, — 
"  no,  my  dear  Fanny,  they  are  not  immense ; 
they  are  large  certainly,  but  I  think  eyes  can 
scarcely  be  too  large,  particularly  if  they  be 
dark,  like  his ;  they  are  so  much  softer  then,  in 
their  expression." 


MORNING   CALLS.  75 

Unfortunately,  poor  William  Brayswick's 
eyes  were  small,  and  of  a  light  blue;  and  this 
open  avowal  of  admiring  another  colour  was 
not  calculated  to  do  away  the  alarm  he  had  al- 
ready conceived  at  the  style  of  Hamilton's 
head,  the  cut  of  his  coat,  and  the  confirmed 
though  careless  air  of  fashion  which  pervaded 
his  whole  person.  His  uncomfortable  feelings 
were  augmented  when,  after  his  sister  had 
answered  Catherine's  questions,  respecting  her 
return,  and  her  grand-mother's  health,  and  the 
manner  in  which  she  had  spent  her  time  whilst 
visiting  her,  she,  in  her  turn,  interrogated 
Catherine  as  to  what  her  employments  had  been, 
and  received  always  the  same  answer  ;  always 
something  in  whicli  the  name  of  Colonel  Ha- 
milton was  somehow  or  other  concerned. 

"  Do  you  intend  to  go  to  the  assembly,  to- 
morrow, Catherine  ?"  at  last  Fanny  asked. 
"  I  did  not  know  there  was  to  be  one." 
"  Not  know  ?   What  have  you  forgotten  that 
E  2 


76  MORNING    CALLS. 

there  always  is  one  on  the  twenty-fourth  ? — 
Well,  that  is  strange,  how  you  could  forget  that, 
I  met  Mr.  Pugh  just  now,  and  he  made  him- 
self sure  I  should  be  there." 

Mr.  Pugh  was  the  village  apothecary,  and 
every  one  who  has  lived  in  a  village  knows 
very  well  that  the  apothecary,  particularly  if  he 
be  a  single  man,  is  generally  a  personage  of 
great  importance  among  the  ladies.  Catherine, 
however,  scarcely  saw  the  blush  which  passed 
over  Fanny's  round  and  dimpled  cheek,  at  the 
mention  of  his  name;  for  she  was  weighing  in 
her  mind  her  disinclination  to  go  to  the  assem- 
bly, against  her  unwillingness  to  disappoint 
Fanny,  who  she  was  afraid  had  relied  upon 
her  going  with  her. 

"  I  should  be  so  sorry,"  thought  she,  **  now 
that  Colonel  Hamilton's  stay  may  be  so  short, 
to  waste  a  whole  evening  in  that  manner — 
just  too,  when  we  are  in  the  middle  of  that 
beautiful  description  of  Medea's  dream  about 


MORNING    CALLS.  77 

Jason— and  yet  poor  Fanny!  she  is  so  fond  of 
dancing,  and  the  assemblies  come  so  seldom  !" 
The  little  dispute  in  Catherine's  mind  between 
what  she  wished  to  do,  and  what  she  felt  ought 
to  be  done,  sought  refuge,  as  disputes  of  more 
importance  generally  do,  in  compromise. 

"  I  shall  be  sorry  if  you  will  be  disappointed 
to  hear  that  I  am  not  going;"  said  she,  "  but 
I  dare  say  Mrs.  Mason  will  be  there,  and  I  will 
call,  if  you  like,  to  ask  her  to  take  you." 

**  Oh,  but  I  don't  like  Miss  Mason — she  is 
always  so  cross,  and  she  does  nothing  but  find 
fault  with  everybody's  dress,  and  I'm  sure  she 
needn't,  for  she's  always  fright  enough  herself. 
No,  if  I  can't  go  with  you,  I  had  rather  not  go 
at  all — I  do  so  like  to  sit  next  you  at  tea,  too — I 
never  enjoy  any  thing  half  so  much  with  any 
body  else."  This  affectionate  appeal  was  not 
lost  upon  Catherine  ;  she  hesitated,  but  William 
Brayswick  undid  all,  by  saying,  in  a  tone  of 
rebuke. 


78  MORNING    CALLS. 

"  Well  sister,  but  if  Miss  Neville  has  more 
agreeable  company  at  home,  you  ought  not  to 
think  only  of  what  you  like." 

It  was  the  first  time  in  his  life,  that  William 
Brayswick  had  ever  said  any  thing  that  pro- 
duced a  sensation  in  Catherine  Neville,  though 
he  had  for  the  last  two  or  three  years  been  very 
sedulously  endeavouring  to  do  so;  she  now 
however,  looked  upon  him  with  wonder,  that 
any  thing  he  could  say  had  point  enough  in  it 
for  her  to  wish  it  unsaid;  nevertheless,  to  alter 
her  resolution  of  staying  at  home  in  conse- 
quence, would,  she  felt,  be  annexing  much  too 
great  a  degree  of  importance  to  it ;  she  there- 
fore calmly  repeated,  that  she  was  sorry  it 
should  happen  so  ;  and  poor  Fanny,  hoj)eless  of 
atiy  further  success,  arose  to  take  her  leave  : 
Catherine  went  with  her  as  far  as  the  gate ; 
Colonel  Hamilton  was  walking  up  and  down 
the  gravel  walk  with  Mr.  Neville,  and 
Fanny,  regarding  him  as  the  cause  of  her  dis- 


MORNING    CALLS.  79 

appointment,  turned  her  head  angrily  away,  to 
avoid  meeting  what  she  termed,  his  immense 
eyes,  the  expression  of  which  did  not  appear  at 
all  improved,  either  to  her  or  her  brother, 
under  the  idea  that  it  was  to  amuse  him,  that 
Catherine  staid  away  from  the  assembly. 

Dinner  was  brought  in  as  soon  as  Fanny 
went  away ;  and  Catherine  took  her  seat  at  the 
head  of  the  table,  with  a  countenance  so  much 
graver  than  usual,  that  her  father  instantly  re- 
marked it. 

*'  Why  Catherine,  what's  the  matter — have 
you  and  my  little  sweetheart  been  pulling 
caps  ?  I  thought  she  looked  somewhat  out  of 
sorts." 

Catherine  explained. 

"  Poor  Fanny  !  said  Mr.  Neville—"  It  is 
certainly  a  trial  to  a  young  lady  of  nineteen,  to 
stay  at  home,  when  a  dance  is  in  question;  par- 
ticularly as  we  have  not  much  of  that  sort  of 
thing  going  on  hereabouts — only    four  in  the 


80  MORNING   CALLS. 

year,  I  believe — Aye!  bless  me;  yes,  sure 
enougb,  to-morrow's  the  day — bow  quickly  tbe 
months  come  round  ]  I  met  Mr.  Pugh,  now  I 
think  of  it,  and  he  asked  me  if  we  should  not 
be  there  :  and  by  the  bye  that's  another  addition 
to  the  grievance — Why  Fanny's  in  love  with 
Mr.  Pugh,  is  she  not  ?" 

"My  dear  Father!"  exclaimed  Catherine, 
blushing,  as  proxy  for  her  friend — *'you  should 
not  say  so — Mr.  Pugh  may  be  in  love  with  her, 
if  you  please." 

"  Oh  that's  the  thing  is  it— well  !  well  !— I 
knew  there  was  a  little  love  on  one  side  or 
other,  I  don't  rightly  understand  which  ;  but  it 
is  a  very  proper  distinction,  no  doubt — though 
you  know  Lord  Lyttleton  says:  — 

''  A  maid  unasked  may  own  a  well-placed  flame, 
Not  loving  first,  but  loving  wrong's  the  shame." 

"  Well,  that  is  loving  wrong,  in  my  opinion  ; 


MORNING    CALLS.  81 

ray  Lord  Lyttleton  and  I  do  not  agree  on  that 
subject." 

"  What,"  said  her  father,  "  you  like  Milton's 
notion  better — you  would  have  the  ladies  know 
the  value  of  their  worth — 

"  That  would  be  wooed,  and  not  unsought  be  won." 

"  Ah  !"  exclaimed  Hamilton,  "  how  pure, 
how  just  that  is  !  It  is  as  true  in  doctrine,  as 
it  is  beautiful  in  poetry ;  he  is  very  right — all 
that  is  really  valuable  must  be  sought  for." 

"  Yes,"  said  i>Ir.  Neville,  "  the  finest  stones 
are  hidden  in  the  earth  ;  and  by  the  bye,"  turn- 
ing to  Hamilton,  "  that  reminds  me  of  the 
metallic  spar  we  were  talking  about ;  I  have 
been  applying  the  acid  on  tin,  and  I  think  I 
have  got  the  effect — I  will  shew  it  to  you  when 
the  cloth  is  taken  away." 

This  led  to  a  long  discussion  on  the  theory  of 
lights   and   colours,    and   crystallizations,  and 
£  4 


82  MORNING    CALLS. 

petrifications;  during  wliich,  Catherine  again 
ruminated  on  the  assembly,  again  blamed  her- 
self for  having  disappointed  Fanny  of  going ; 
and  then  began  to  fear  that  lier  own  absence 
might  be  more  commented  on  than  she  had  at 
first  imagined — "  I  think  I  will  goto  the  assem- 
bly too,  papa,  to-morrow,"  said  she. 

"  I  think  you  had  better^  my  dear,"  he  re- 
plied, holding  up  a  small  phial  as  he  spoke,  with 
a  piece  of  zink  in  it,  on  wliich  lie  was  making 
an  experiment  — she  looked  towards  Hamilton, 
he  understood  the  appeal. 

*'  I  hope  you  do  not,  for  a  moment,"  said  he, 
"hesitate  on  my  account — I  should  be  quite  un- 
comfortable if  I  once  began  to  think  myself  an 
obstacle  to  any  arrangements  you  would  make 
if  I  were  altogether  out  of  the  question." 

Hamilton  had  a  pretty  good  guess,  that  if 
Catherine  merely  consulted  her  inclination,  it 
would  not,  just  at  that  time,  take  her  to  the 


MORNING    CALLS,  83 

village  assemblvj  even  though  it  were  the  last 
of  the  season  ;  and  it  was  this  very  conjecture 
that  made  hiai  not  unwilling  for  her  to  go. 

"  Perhaps  you  will  go  too  ?"  said  she. 

"  I  am  obliged  to  you,  but  you  must  excuse 
me."  And  he  spoke  in  a  tone  so  cold  and  de- 
cided, as  if  it  was  a  thing  not  to  be  for  a  moment 
expected  ;  insomuch  that  Catherine  coloured, 
and  wished  she  had  not  paid  him  the  compii* 
ment,  as  she  termed  it  to  herself,  of  asking  him. 

"  It  would  be  mighty  entertaining,"  thought 
he,  *'  for  a  man  like  me  to  go  among  a  set  of 
cherry-cheeked  girls,  and  flaxen-headed  youths, 
aud  dance  in  a  room  over  a  stable,  and  hand 
negus  about,  with  slices  of  lemon  swimming  in 
it,  and  call  for  hot  rolls  and  butter  at  tea — It 
may  all  do  very  well  for  Mr.  Pugli,  who  can 
put  his  partners  to  stand  in  a  draught  of  air, 
and  may  amuse  himself  with  calculating  how 
many  sore  throats,  and  coughs  he  will  get  on 
his  list  by  it ;  but  I  shall  contrive  to  make  my-s 


84  MORNING    CALLS. 

self  tolerably  happy  at  home ;"  and  as  he  in- 
wardly settled  this  tirade,  an  air  of  ineffable 
complacency  stol.e  over  his  handsome  features, 
under  the  idea,  that  Catherine  would  all  the  even- 
ing be  wishing  herself  at  home  too;  quietly  work- 
ing her  hearth-rug  by  the  five,  with  her  favourite 
kitten  at  her  feet;  whilst  he  read  the  '  Argonau- 
tics'  toher,.in  the  poetical  translation  of  Fawkes, 
and  elucidated  the  beauties  of  his  subject  with 
comments,  always  listened  to  by  her  with  a 
sweet  and  earnest  attentio^i,  which  abundantly 
repaid  him  for  the  pains  he  took  to  improve  ^ 
mind  so  susceptible  of  cultivation ,_ 


85 


CHAPTER  YI. 


THE  VILLAGE  ASSEMBLY. 


The  next  morning,  Catherine  was  busy  in 
preparing  her  dress  for  the  evening:  she  there- 
fore spent  most  of  it  in  her  own  room  ;  as  she 
found  she  could  not  get  the  trimming  com- 
pleted without  the  assistance  of  Margaret.  She 
had  sent  to  let  Fanny  Brayswick  know  that  she 
would  be  ready  for  her  by  eight  o'clock ;  and 
had  received  a  note  from  her  in  return,  full  of 


86  THE    VILLAGE    ASSEMBLY. 

such  grateful  acknowledgomeut,  and  declara- 
tions of  delight,  as  sufficiently  rewarded  her 
for  the  force  she  had  put  upon  her  own  inclina- 
tions in  going. 

Colonel  Hamilton  found  himself  somewhat 
solitary  amidst  all  this  preparation  and  arrange- 
ment ;  he  therefore  souglit  to  beguile  the  time 
till  dinner,  by  a  ramble  through  the  same 
valleys,  and  over  the  same  hills  that  he  had  be- 
fore explored  with  Catherine  ;  but  he  missed  at 
every  step  her  playful  remarks,  or  more  serious 
reflections ;  and  as  the  wind  blew  freshly  over 
the  boughs  that  were  just  begiiining  to  put 
forth  their  first  tender  green,  lie  longed  to  see 
how  it  would  have  played  with  her  "brownie 
locks,"  and  heightened  the  colour  upon  Iser 
peach-like  cheek. 

When  he  returned  to  the  house  he  found 
that  the  Longcrofts  had  been  there,  to  ask 
Catlierine  to  accompany  them  to  the  assembly. 

"  They   desired   I  would  take  Fanny  too," 


THE    VILLAGE    ASSEMBLY.  87 

said  she,  "  they  are  always  so  kind  and  con- 
siderate :  and  I  am  very  glad  they  did  call, 
because  now  my  father  will  not  be  obliged  to 
go  to  take  care  of  us ;  so  he  can  stay  at  home 
with  you,  Colonel ;  and  you  can  have  a  good 
game  at  chess  together ;  without  fear  of  my 
disturbing  you,  by  asking  questions,  or  giving 
you  advice." 

When  Hamilton  had,  with  so  much  gravity, 
declined  going  to  the  assembly,  he  was  thinking 
very  little  of  playing  at  chess  with  Mr.  Neville, 
and  still  less  of  giving  Edward  Longcroft  an 
opportunity  of  paying  attention  to  Catherine 
unrivalled  and  unobserved.  Men  of  the  world, 
liowever,  can  always  get  themselves  out  of  such 
scrapes,  by  easy  assurance,  as  they  plunge 
themselves  into  by  waywardness,  or  impatience. 

"  No,  indeed,"  said  he,  "  I  will  keep  no  one 
at  home,  to  play  at  chess  with  me — I  will  stay 
by  myself,  and  play  at  patience." 

"  Ah  !"  said  Catherine,  "  I  wish  I  could  see 


88  THE    VILLAGE    ASSEMBLY.. 

you — how  twzpatiently  you  will  play,  and  you 
will  lift  up  the  cards,  and  cheat  yourself;  lam 
sure  you  will  never  have  resolution  enough  to 
play  fairly  !" 

"  Well  then,  I  will  go  to  this  famous  ball 
with  you,  and  then  I  shall  have  some  chance 
of  keeping  myself  honest." 

"  And  of  playing  at  patience  too  ;"  said  Ca- 
therine, laughing;  but  without  the  slightest 
idea  that  he  had  any  intention  of  going, — 
though  when  she  stood  before  the  glass,  and 
saw  how  well  she  looked  in  a  dress  of  pale 
blue  crape,  trimmed  with  white  roses,  and  her 
head  ornamented  with  a  delicate  pearl  spray,  a 
present  from  Louisa  Longcroft,  she  could  not 
help  thinking  it  a  little  unfortunate,  that  per- 
haps, the  only  time  when  she  had  any  chance 
of  looking  at  all  like  the  women  of  fashion,  on 
whose  elegance  and  grace  he  had  so  often  ex- 
patiated, he  would  merely  see  her  for  a  moment, 
as  she  went  into  the  room  to  wish  him   good 


THE    VILLAGE    ASSEMBLY.  89 

evening.  That  moment,  liowever,  would  have 
been  quite  enough,  to  decide  him  even  if  he  had 
not  before  fixed  his  resolution — for  to  combine 
any  thing  of  vulgarity,  or  ridiculousness  with 
an  amusement  in  which  such  a  figure  as  stood 
before  him  was  going  to  partake,  was  impossible. 

"  I  certainly  will  make  one  in  the  throng," 
thought  he,  "  but  I  shall  not  put  myself  under 
the  wing  of  their  high  mightinesses,  the  Long- 
crofts.  I  sliall  just  check-mate  my  good  old 
friend,  and  then  get  him  to  introduce  me  to  the 
master  of  the  ceremonies,  Mr.  Pugh,  I  suppose. 
It  will  be  excellent  to  see  him  feeling  all  the 
ladies'  pulses,  as  he  marshalls  them  in  the 
dance." 

Accordingly,  to  the  great  surprize  of  Fanny 
Brayswick,  and  the  great  consternation  of  her 
brother,  and  great  pleasure  of  Catherine, 
and  great  amazement  of  all  the  room  be- 
sides, excepting  the  Longcrofts,  who  very 
rarely  indeed    felt    the    force    of    that    sort  of 


90  THE    VILLAGE    ASSEMBLY. 

wonder  which  has  been  defined  "  the  effect  of 
novelty  upon  ignorance,"  just  before  the  danc- 
ing commenced,  in  walked  the  Colonel,  leaning 
upon  Mr.  Neville's  arm,  and  attracting  as  much 
attention  by  his  chapeau-bras,  as  he  had  before 
done  by  his  great-coat.  A  very  cold  bow  of 
recognition  passed  between  him  and  the  Long- 
crofts  ;  he  then  stepped  up  to  Catherine,  and 
said  to  her,  sotto  voce,  "  You  see  what  you  can 
do  !  You  are  in  conscience  bound  to  dance 
with  me,  since  you  have  drawn  me  here." 

"  If  that  would  make  any  amends  to  you  for 
tlie  exertion  of  coming,  I  would  gladly  do  so, 
if  it  were  in  my  power ;  but  unfortunately  I 
am  engaged  already." 

She  looked  towards  Edward  Longcroft,  as 
she  spoke;  and  though  it  was  the  thing  most  to 
be  expected,  that  he  should  have  solicited  her 
hand  for  the  first  two  dances,  even  if  it  had 
been  merely  outcf  civility  to  her,  as  his  cousin's 
friend,  yet  Hamilton  was  unjust  enough  to  feel 


THE    VILLAGE    ASSEMBLY.  91 

offended^that  she  had  not  waited  for  him;  when, 
in  fact,  slie  knew  nothing  of  his  intention  to  be 
there.  He,  ho\vever,  did  not  trust  himself  with 
any  expression  of  ill  humour,  beyond  what  he 
could  convey  in  a  scornful  elevation  of  the 
eyebrows,  and  a  careless  gaze  round  the  room  ; 
taking  care  to  throw  as  much  apathy  and  dis- 
gust into  his  countenance  as  he  could  render 
intelligible  to  tlie  meanest  capacity.  It  could 
not  escape  tlie  observation  of  her  whom  it  was 
meant  to  make  uncomfortable ;  yet  she  forgave 
him. 

"  It  is,  to  be  sure,"  thought  she  "so  different 
a  scene  from  all  that  he  has  ever  been  ac- 
customed to." — And  whilst  making  this  reflec- 
tion she  was  led  to  her  place  by  Edward  Long- 
croft,  whose  cheek  was  yet  blanched  with  the 
variety  of  feelings  w^hich  Hamilton's  up-raised 
eyebrow  had  excited  in  his  brca-t. 

Hamilton  himself,  meanwliile,  was  left  in 
solitary  dignity,   to  ruminate   by  the   fire-side; 


92  THE    VILLAGE    ASSEMBLY. 

for  Mr.  Neville  had  joined  a  wliist  table,  with 
the  lawyer  and  the  banker,  and  Mr.  Pugh  the 
elder ;  whose  son  was,  as  Hamilton  had  rightly 
guessed,  the  master  of  the  ceremonies,  and  had, 
as  in  duty  bound,  skipped  up  to  him,  perceiv- 
ing that  he  was  standing  still,  and  offered  to 
procure  him  a  partner ;  but  the  cold  entreaty, 
that  he  would  not  trouble  himself,  sent  him 
back  again  to  his  place,  with  a  countenance 
somewhat  elongated  by  his  failure  of  doing  the 
agreeable;  and  he  had  changed  sides,  and  back 
again,  and  danced  down  the  middle  and  up 
again,  with  his  smiling  partner,  two  or  three 
times,  to  the  tune  of  "  money  in  both  pockets," 
before  he  felt  quite  reinstated  in  the  dignity  of 
his  official  capacity. 

Hamilton,  meanwhile,  could  not  but  be 
entertained  at  his  own  situation,  as  he  threw  a 
careless  glance  around  the  room,  which,  though 
not  literally  over  a  stable,  was  yet  not  far  re- 
moved from  one ;  being  in  the  principal  Inn  in 


THE    VILLAGE    ASSEMBLY.  93 

the  place,  and  consequently  subjected   to  the 
noise  of  all  the  coaches,  and  carts,  and  horse- 
men, and  footmen  that  resorted  to  it. — What  a 
contrast  did  its  walls,  and  tallow  candles,    and 
three  fiddlers,  and  long  wooden  benches  covered 
with    faded    cloth,     present    to    the     elegant 
ball-rooms,  the  silken   hangings,  adorned  with 
wreaths    of  flowers,   the    alabaster    vas^s,  the 
transparencies,   the    chalked   floors,  the   luxu- 
rious ottomans,  the  sounding  orchestras  he  had 
so  lately  left ;  and  wherein  he  had  been  accus- 
tomed   to   guide   the   brightest    luminaries   of 
fashion,  through  the  mazes  of  the  quadrille,  or 
support  them  in  the  yet  more  enchanting  move- 
ments of  the  waltz  !     And  what  a  contrast — 
and  stranger  still  to  him,  was  it  to  find  in  the 
scene  before  him,  an  air  of  heartfelt  enjoyment, 
and   cordial    familiarity,  which  he  vainly  en- 
deavoured to  recollect  having  witnessed  in  the 
more  brilliant  assemblages  he  had  been  recall- 
ing to  his   memory ;  but  what  surprised  him 


94  THE    VILLAGE    ASSEMBLY. 

most  of  all  was,  to  see  Miss  Longcroft,  who 
was  used  to  as  good  society  as  that  in  which  he 
prided  himself,  on  being  one  of  the  leaders, 
sitting  with  an  air  of  perfect  contentment,  in 
conversation  with  a  young  man  whose  "cus- 
tomary suit  of  solemn  black,"  somewhat  rusty 
with  wear,  proclaimed  him  to  be,  in  all  proba- 
bility, the  curate  of  some  adjacent  village; 
whilst  Catherine  herself  danced  like  Terpsi- 
chore, the  attraction  of  every  eye,  and  perfectly 
satisfied  with  an  admiration,  which  to  her  made 
up  by  sincerity  for  what  it  might  want  in  re- 
finement. 

Before  he  had  accounted  for  these  singu- 
larities, the  first  dance  was  ended,  and  lie  de- 
rived a  temporary  feeling  of  pleasure  from  tlie 
thought,  that  Catherine  would,  for  a  few 
minutes  at  least,  in  all  likelihood  resume  her 
seat  beside  him.  He  was  however  disappointed : 
the  place  was  taken  up  by  Fanny  Brayswick, 
who  threw  herself  into  it,  panting  and  fanning 


THE    VILLAGE    ASSEMBLY.  95 

herself,  with  a  countenance  so  full  of  Mr. 
Pugh,  that  Hamilton  could  not  even  seek  con- 
solation in  liis  vanity  by  thinking  that  she  had 
any  other  motive  for  choosing  a  seat  so  near 
him,  but  simply  that  it  was  the  first  she  saw 
vacant. 

And  now  began  indeed  the  full  force,  or  ra- 
ther agony  of  contrast ;  instead  of  the  elegant 
refinements  of  fashionable  conversation  ;  the 
mysterious  intimation,  the  covert  reply,  the 
bolder  avowal,  the  affected  rebuke,  the  bon  mot, 
the  repartee,  the  ben  trovate^  he  was  condemned 
to  listen  to  all  the  whispering  and  laughing 
about  nothing,  the  for  shames!  and  oh  dears! 
the  giggling  and  blushing  that  constitute,  with 
young  ladies  in  the  country,  between  sixteen 
and  twenty,  the  very  essence  of  wit  and 
gaiety. 

"  Well,  Miss  Brayswick,  why  I  declare  you 
look  quite  blue,  I'm  afraid  you  are  cold  !" 

"  La,   now,  Mr.  Pugh,  I'm  sure  now  you 


96  THE    VILLAGE    ASSEMBLY. 

mean  red,  and  I  dare  say  I  am  a  fine  figure,  it 
is  so  hot !" 

"  No,  surely  you  don't  tliink  so, — I  was  just 
going  to  ask  if  I  might  bring  you  a  little  fire 
on  your  fan." 

This  was  a  standing  joke  with  Mr.  Pugh, 
who  never  failed  to  avail  himself  of  it,  so  long 
as  the  fire  itself  afforded  him  an  opporlunt'ty, — 
^nd  Fanny  as  constantly  delighted  him  with 
laughing,  and  telling  him  that  he  might  bring 
it  in  his  pocket,  as  she  could  not  spare  her  fan. 

It  was  too  much  for  Hamilton's  nerves — he 
started  up,  and  strode  across  the  room  towards 
Catherine,  who  was  sitting  with  her  partner 
near  Miss  Longcroft  and  the  gentleman  in  the 
rusty  coat,  when  his  attention  was  suddenly 
arrested  by  a  head,  with  a  very  long  nose  at- 
tached to  it,  which  popped  itself  into  the  door, 
without  introducing  any  more  of  the  body 
thereunto  belonging  than  the  shoulders,  and 
exclaimed : — 


THE    VIILAGE    ASSEMBLY.  97 

^'  Ah  !  is  it  you,  Hamilton  !  and  in  this  nook 
of  the  world  ?  I  might  have  looked  to  all 
eternity  for  you  on  the  Continent." 

"  And  you  too,  Halston  !"  he  said,  "  we  may 
well  be  surprised  to  see  one  another  in  such  a 
place  as  this." 

The  head  and  body  of  the  first  speaker  now 
came  forth  from  the  other  side  of  the  door,  and 
presented  altogether  a  person  of  fashionable  ap- 
pearance— that  is  to  say,  cut  in  at  the  waist, 
and  stuffed  out  at  the  shoulders— an  enoi-mous 
cravat,  and  every  hair  on  the  head  twisted  in  a 
way  exactly  different  from  what  nature  had  in- 
tended. After  he  had  shaken  hands  with 
Hamilton,  tliey  retired  together:  about  an  hour 
afterwards,  a  chaise-and-four  dashed  off  from 
the  Inn,  and  Hamilton  returned  to  the  assem- 
bly ;  his  consequence  much  increased  in  the 
eyes  of  the  waiters  and  landlord,  by  his  inti- 
macy  with   the  gentleman   who  had   taken  a 

VOK.    I.  F 


98  THE    VILLAGE    ASSEMBLY. 

chaise-and-four  all  to  himself,  and  evidently  in 
much  better  humour  with  every  thing  around 
him. 

The  company  were  just  sitting  down  to  tea, 
and  he  not  only  condescended  to  take  his  place 
among  them,  but  even  to  pour  out  the  coffee, 
and  hand  the  hot  rolls,  with  a  grace  that  in- 
duced many  to  accept  them,  solely  that  they 
might  boast  of  the  attention  they  had  received 
from  Mr.  Neville's  elegant  visitor.  He  likewise 
entered  into  conversation  with  Edward  Long- 
croft,  informing  him  of  tlie  latest  news,  which 
his  friend  Mr.  Halston  had  brought  from  Town, 
and  repeated  it  to  Mr.  Dacres,  Miss  Longcroft's 
partner ;  whom  he  now  discovered  to  be,  not 
merely  a  village  curate,  but  also,  a  gentleman 
of  very  prepossessing  appearance  and  address. 
Fanny  Brayswick  and  her  brother,  and  Mr. 
Pugh  himself,  all  came  in  for  a  sliarc  of  his 
attentions;  and  Catherine  was  delighted  to  see 


THE    VILL\GE    ASSEMBLY.  99 

her  own  admiration  of  him  gradually  pervade 
the  whole  circle  in  which  he  so  graciously  con- 
descended to  appear  agreeable. 

There  was  only  to  be  one  more  dance  after 
tea ;  and  for  that  one  Hamilton  solicited  the 
hand  of  Catherine,  with  more  fear  of  finding 
her  engaged  than  he  was  willing  to  acknow^ 
ledge  to  himself.  He  obtained  it  however,  for 
in  fact  she  had  reserved  it  for  him :  and  as  he 
led  her  to  the  top  of  the  room,  he  was  consci- 
ous of  more  actual  pleasure  than  he  recollected 
ever  to  have  derived  from  the  most  flattering 
attentions  of  the  belles  of  Al mack's,  where,  in 
spite  of  its  avowed  exclusiveuess,  a  perpetual 
search  after  novelty  sufficiently  proves  that  the 
members  are  not,  amid  all  their  variety,  in 
actual  possession  of  any  thing  that  suffices  for 
enjoyment. 

Just  as  they  had  reached  the  bottom  of  the 
dance  Mr.  Neville  was  coming  out  of  the  card- 
room,  buttoning  up  his  purse,  with  two  additi- 
F  2 


100  THE    VILLAGE    ASSEMBLY. 

onal  half-crowns  in  it,  the  earnings  of  his 
evening's  recreation.  Hamilton  took  him  by 
the  arm,  and,  turning  him  half  round,  communi- 
cated something  in  his  ear,  which  evidently  im- 
parted no  small  degree  of  satisfaction  to  the 
worthy  Re. tor;  who,  unused  to  conceal  any 
thing  he  felt,  shook  him  by  the  hand,  saying — 
"  God  be  thanked  !  How  happy  you  must  feel 
— it  relieves  me  greatly. — But,  my  dear  boy, 
let  it  be  a  lesson  to  you.  What  a  miserable 
man  you  might  have  made  of  yourself,  at  least 
if  you  are  the  man  I  take  you  to  be." 

He  shook  him  again  by  the  hand,  as  he  con- 
cluded, with  an  emotion  that  affected  Hamilton, 
whose  heightened  colour,  and  moistened  eye, 
caught  Catherine's  attention  ;  and  she  looked  at 
him  with  such  enquiring,  though  unconscious 
earnestness,  as  instantly  brouglit  him  to  her 
side  again,  and  as  instantly  drove  Edward 
Longcroft  away  from  it. 

How  strange  a  sympathy  there  is   in  human 


THE    VILLAGE    ASSEMBLY.  101 

souls  !  how  mysterious  the  study  it  might  af- 
ford !  Hamilton  spoke  not  to  Catherine — she 
knew  not  the  nature  of  the  communication 
between  him  and  her  father — she  had  not  even 
tlie  remotest  idea  of  it ;  yet  was  he  assured,  as 
lie  sate  by  her  side,  that  she  entered  into  all 
his  feelings,  and  that  all  her  own  happiness 
was  the  reflection  of  that  which  beamed  in  his 
countenance. 


102 


CHAPTER    VII. 


A  COTTAGE  SCENE. 


For  some  days  after  the  ball,  if  the 
meeting  at  the  King's  Arms  might  be  honoured 
with  so  dignified  an  appellation,  Colonel  Hamil- 
ton entered  upon  every  thing  around  him  with 
new  feelings.  Not  Catherine  herself  was  more 
ready  for  a  walk  in  the  morning,  or  her  father 
for  a  philosophical  experiment  after  dinner,  or 
both  of  them  together  for  Purcell  and  Corclli 


A    COTTAGE    SCENE.  103 

in  an  evening — It  was  impossible  for  Catherine 
to  be  insensible  of  the  pleasure  which  such  a 
companion  diffused  over  the  Rectory. — Her 
father  had  loved  Hamilton  as  a  son,  and  in  the 
retirement  under  which  he  now  contemplated 
him,  he  saw  only  the  same  blameless  vivacity, 
and  noble  warmth  of  feeling  which  had  charac- 
terised him  when  a  boy.  Whilst  Catherine, 
whose  elegant  tastes  and  highly  cultivated  in- 
tellect were  only  rarely  excited,  even  for  a 
moment,  in  the  sequestered  and  monotonous 
life  to  which  her  father's  studious  habits,  and 
limited  circle  of  acquaintance  subjected  her, 
felt  as  if  a  new  sun  had  risen  on  her  hitherto 
narrow,  though  cloudless  horizon.  To  detain 
a  man  like  Hamilton  so  long  in  comparative 
solitude  might  have  flattered  the  vanity  of  any 
woman,  but  in  Catherine  it  excited  a  better 
feeling— it  made  her  think  well  of  him,  rather 
than  of  herself. 

"  He  cannot  he  much  hurt  by  the  world," 


104  A    COTTAGE    SCENE. 

she  would  say,  "  if  he  can  be  contented  so  long 
out  of  it — and  then  how  fond  he  is  of  my 
father  ! — it  must  be  a  good  heart  that  retains 
so  warmly  the  affections  of  its  youth,  after  so 
many  years'  separation  from  their  object." 

Mr.  Neville  had  taken  great  pains  to  culti- 
vate his  daughter's  understanding,  and  teach 
her  to  value  mental  excellence;  but  he  had 
likewise  invariably  impressed  upon  her,  that 
the  qualities  of  the  heart  are  far  beyond  those 
of  the  head,  with  reference  both  to  their  influ- 
ence on  the  individual,  and  on  those  around 
him.  Catlicrine,  therefore,  was  much  happier 
when  she  discovered  a  good  feeling  in  Hamil- 
ton, than  a  brilliant  thought.  Sometimes  she 
felt  a  sweet  consciousness  that  he  was  indeed 
all  the  better  for  the  time  he  had  passed  with 
her ;  and  this  conviction  converted  their  tete-d- 
tete  walks  into  a  series  of  familiar  ethics,  play- 
ful on  both  sides,  but  delightful  to  each ;  for 
Hamilton  himself  felt,  when  he  saw  her  counte- 


A    COTTAGE    SCENE.  105 

nance  lighten  up,  with  all  the  triumph  of  gene- 
rous sentiment,  or  listened  to  her  voice,  natu- 
rally soft  and  melodious,  and  still  more  so 
when  her  sensibility  betrayed  itself  in  the  ex- 
qui^site  modulation  of  its  tones,  that  if  any 
thing  can  reclaim  a  man  whose  perceptions  of 
excellence  have  been  early  vitiated  by  the 
world,  it  is  tie  society  of  an  amiable  and  in- 
telligent woman,  in  whom  refinement  of  pur- 
suits is  accompanied  with  simplicity  of  habits. 

One  morning  Catherine  and  Hamilton  came, 
in  their  walks,  to  a  preity  cottage  with  the  in- 
habitants of  wliich  Catherine  w^as  well  ac- 
quainted, and  whose  thatched  roof  had  often  been 
a  landmark  to  l.er  from  some  eminence,  as  the 
smoke  rose  from  its  chimney,  above  the  little 
orchard  in  which  it  stood.  Her  attention  was 
immediately  arrested  hy  a  small  cart  at  the 
door,  containing  a  bed,  covered  with  a  patch- 
work quilt,  and  otlier  articles  of  household 
furniture. 


106  A    COTTAGE    SCENE. 

"  What  is  all  this  about  !"  she  exclaimed^ 
''I'm  afraid  I'm  going  to  lose  an  old  neigh- 
bour;" and  instantly  she  entered,  with  all  the 
ease  of  one  assured  of  welcome.  Hamilton  in- 
stinctively followed  her,  not  without  admira- 
tion at  himself,  for  the  submission  with  wliich 
he  waited  on  the  steps  of  a  country  girl,  who 
did  not  even  seem  to  consider  him  of  sufficient 
consequence  to  require  an  apology,  for  inter- 
rupting him  in  his  walk. 

"Why  Alice!  What  is  the  matter?"  ex- 
claimed Catherine,  at  the  same  time  extending 
her  arms  for  an  infant,  which  was  sleeping  on 
its  mother's  breast.  "  How  is  your  lui-^band  ? 
Are  you  going  away  ?  What  are  your  things 
packed  up  for  ?" 

Alice  burst  into  tears — '*  Hav'nt  you  heard, 
Miss,  that  John  was  ballotted  for  a  soldier,  six 
weeks  sin,  and  was  forced  to  gang  to  Hull,  to 
join  'um?" 

Catherine  blushed,   for  she  felt  tliat  for  the 


A    COTTAGE    SCENE.  107 

last  six  weeks  her  father's  poor  parishioners  had 
come  much  seldomer  into  her  mind  than  during 
any  former  period  of  lier  acquaintance  with 
them. 

"  No,"  she  said,  ^'  I  never  heard  a  word  of 
it.  This  pretty  little  creature  has  been  born 
then  since  he  went  away;  and  you  about  again 
so  soon  !" 

"  Yes,  Miss,  I'mun  stir  mysel',  but  God 
knows  what'U  become  of  us ;  for  Mr.  Long- 
crofts*s  steward  says,  I  shall  niver  be  able  to 
manage  bit  o'  ground  by  mysen ;  and  he  says, 
if  I  leaves  quiet  like,  he'll  allow  me  some'at  out 
of  crops  for  this  year ;  but  if  I  don't  he'll  strain 
for  rent,  and  mak'  me  put  every  thing  in  re- 
pair besides  ;  and  so  I'mun  leave  my  poor 
homestead,  and  ray  bairns,  poor  things,  mun 
gang  about  warld  like  fatherless  ones  as  they 
are." 

Catherine's  eyes  filled  with  tears,  at  the 
sight   of    the    mother's    lip,   quivering  as    she 


108  A    COTTAGE    SCENE. 

spoke,  and,  to  conceal  them  she  turned  round  to 
a  fine  chubby  boy,  who  was  keeping  guard  over 
a  fat  pig,  which  was  tied  by  the  leg ;  and  as  he 
stood  twisting  the  string  in  his  fingers,  it  wa« 
easy  to  see  that  his  sorrow  for  his  mother's 
grief,  was  very  nearly  balanced  by  his  joy  at  being 
entrusted  to  drive  the  recent  tenant  of  the  sty 
along  the  road,  to  his  grandmother's,  where  all 
the  little  troops  of  emigrants  were  going  to 
seek  a  temporary  shelter :  a  pretty  little  girl^^, 
six  years  old,  was  kneeling  beside  a  basket  of 
chickens,  putting  down  the  crested  heads,  wiiich 
ever  and  anon  popped  through  the  interstices  d' 
the  cabbage-net  that  confined  them  in  their 
wicker  prison  ;  and  a  terrier  dog,  with  one  foot 
lifted  from  the  ground,  as  if  ready  to  obey  the 
first  signal  to  depart,  gazed  wistfully  in  the 
face  of  his  mistress,  in  order  to  penetrate  her 
designs;  whilst  the  cat.  regarding  herself  as  a 
fixture,  remained  seated  on  the  hearth,  with 
half-closed  eyes,  in  immoveable  gravity ;  which 


A    COTTAGE    SCENE.  109 

would  not  condescend  to  be  diverted,  even  by 
the  gambols  of  her  kitten,  that  frolicked  round 
her ;  free,  for  a  time  at  least,  from  the  torment- 
ing caresses  of  tlie  cliildren,  whose  play  thing  it 
had  been  fated  from  its  birth  to  become. 

*'  Capital  subject  for  Wilkie,"  thought  Hamil- 
ton, "  too  sombre  thougli  !  wants  a  little  touch 
of  the  humourous;  that  'Distraining  for  Rent,' 
was  too  solemn  for  John  Bull — he  could  not 
look  at  it  without  putting  his  hand  in  his  pocket 
to  pay  the  bailiff." 

Whilst  he  thus  clasped  the  miseries  of  life 
and  the  fine  arts  together,  Catherines  hand 
was  wandering  towards  her  purse,  for  she  liad 
asked  Alice  if  she  had  not  heard  from  lier  hus- 
band since  he  went  away  ;  and  the  reply  went 
to  her  heart. 

"  Oh  yes  Miss,  I's  vary  vary  sure  he  would 
write — but  poor  folk  can't  afford  post-letters; 
if  there  was  one  for  me  at  post-oflice,  I  couldn't 


110  A    COTTAGE    SCENE. 

lay  out  a  shilling  in  loosing  it,  when  my  bairns 
have  no*  but  me  to  look  to,  for  bread." 

''  I  will  give  you  the  money  for  the  post — " 
age,  Catherine  was  going  to  say ;  but  meet- 
ing Hamilton's  eye,  siie  clianged  her  expression 
into,  "  I  will  enquire  for  you  if  tliere  are  any 
letters." 

"  If  there  ben't,"  replied  Alice,  melting 
afresh  into  tears,  "  I  know  vary  weel,  liis  heart's 
all  same  to  us — it  can't  bo  altered  sae  soon  ; 
though  they  reckon  that  nobody's  ever  good  for 
mucli,  after  a  soldier's  life ;  and  indeed  I  may 
say  if  it  please  God  the  same,  1  had  sooner  wrap 
that  boy,"  pointing  to  the  pig-driver,  "  in  his 
shroud,  innocent  as  he  is  now,  than  I  wad  see 
him  in  a  red  coat,  twenty  years  l.ence." 

*'  Ah  my  good  woman,"  said  Hamilton, 
"what  would  his  majesty  do  for  recruits  if  all 
your  sex  ihouglit  as  you  do?  but,"  added  he, 
more  seriously,  seeing  Catherine  look  grave  at 


^A    COTTAGE    SCENE.  Ill 

hig  ill-timed  levity,  "  what  is  tlie  name  of  your 
husband's  colonel  ?" 

*'  It's  RawUnson,  Sir — be  is  vary  strict,  they 
reckon  with  men,  when  he's  sober,  and  vary  per- 
ticklar  about  bis  regiment — so  my  husband  liad 
noa  chance  of  getting  off — for  one  does'nt  often 
set  eyes  on  a  better  lookingstriiigiiter  made  man." 

'*  And  what  would  it  cost  to  get  his  dis- 
cbarge ?"  enquired  Catherine. 

"  Wliv,  Miss,  Willy  Simpson,  wheelwright's 
son  said  he  would  have  gone  for  him,  for  forty 
guineas;  and  he's  sic  an  a  wild  one,  that  he 
could'nt  hae  been  made  ony  warse,  let  hira  be 
want  he  would,  but  all  we  have  in  thevarselwarld 
wonld'nt  fetch  forty  guineas  ;  auvl  then  steward 
was  very  angry  v.o  had'nt  mended  roof,  and  so  we 
sjsould  have  done,  but  we  were  hard  set  all  win- 
ter ;  and  when  this  poor  bairn  was  born,  there 
was  a  fall  of  snow,  you  might  have  taken  a  peck 
off  my  bed,  it  came  in  so  starving-like;  but 
God's  so  g:ood  he  gets  one  through  everything." 


112  A    COTTAGE    SCENE. 

"  He  cares  for  all  alike,  Alice,"  said  Cathe- 
rine, "and  whatever  way  lie  tries  us  in,  it  is  all 
for  our  good — but  I  will  send  Margaret  to  your 
mother's  to  see  after  you,  as  soon  as  you've  got 
settled  ;  or,  if  you  like,  she  shall  come  to-day 
and  help  your  children  and  you  to  remove." 

"  Noa  Miss,  thanks  to  you  all  same  ;  but  I'd 
rather  see  her  a  bit  after  ;  for  I  shall  be  sae  dull 
at  leaving — and  I  should  like  to  say  good-bye 
to  every  thing,  and  happen  it  wad  seem  foolish 
to  a  young  thing  like  her,  that's  had  no  troubles 
of  her  own  ;  bat  woae's  heart  !  nobody  knows, 
nobody  knows  wliat  they  may  hae  to  com.e 
to." 

Catherine,  then,  fearing  tliat  even  she  might 
be  a  restraint  on  poor  Alice  at  such  a  time,  took 
a  kind  leave  of  her,  but  not  without  turning  to 
the  little  girl  with  the  chickens,  and  contriving 
to  slip  a  couple  of  shillings  into  her  hand,  under 
pretence  of  bargaining  with  her  for  her  poultry. 

"  Quite  a  moving  scene,"  said  Hamilton,  by 


A    COTTAGE    SCENE.  113 

way  of  rousing  Catherine  from  the  reverie  into 
wliich  the  distress  she  had  witnessed  had  in- 
voluntarily plunged  her,  "quite  a  Goldsmith, 

"  Sweet  Auburn,  loveliest  village  of  the  plain, 

^^'here  health  and  plenty  cheered  the  labouring  swain." 

and  then  the  delightful  doric  in  which  she  told 
her  tale,  gave  it  such  admirable  effect  !" 

But  Catherine  made  scarcely  any  reply,  and 
instead  of  pursuing  her  walk,  she  turned  to- 
wards tlie  Rectory,  and  arrived  there  before 
she  recollected  tliat  she  had  taken  her  direction 
homewards — Hamilton  however  seemed  deter- 
mined not  to  lose  the  morning's  exercise. 

*'  Well,  fair  lady,"  said  he,  "since  of  the  two 
hours  I  had  promised  myself,  more  than  one 
remains,  I  shall  try  if  I  can  so  far  realize  the 
idea  of  your  presence,  as  to  make  my  walk  as 
agreeable  by  thinking  of  you,  as  it  would  have 
been  in  your  society." 

He  was  out  of  sight  in  a  moment. 


114  A    COTTAGE    SCENE. 

"  Ah  !"  Catherine  thought  to  herself,  ''  my 
father  says  riglitly  enough,  tliat  he  who  has 
no  eye  for  tlie  hi3auties  of  nature,  has  seldom 
any  feeling  for  tlie  misfortunes  of  liis  fellow- 
creatures." 

Catlierine  did  not  see  Jier  father  till  dinner- 
time, and  tiien  she  informed  him  of  poor  Alice's 
sorrows ;  in  which  he  sympa^thised  as  hecame 
one  who  looked  upon  himself,  as  the  father  of 
his  flock. 

"  Better,  however,  my  dear,"  said  he,  "  have 
sorrows  like  these,  than  vexations  more  im- 
mediately springing  from  her  own  lieart.  '  It 
is  better  to  fall  into  tlie  hands  of  God,  than  of 
man,'  that  is,  m>y  dear,  it  is  better  to  endure  the 
trials  sent  us  by  heaven,  than  tliose  for  which 
we  have  to  reproach  ourselves,  or  which  em- 
bitter us  against  our  neighbour — but,  however, 
we  must  do  something  for  her,  poor  tiling;  and 
yet  I  scarcely  know  what;  for  such  an  honest, 
industrious  creature  as  she  is,  would  not  like 


A    COTTAGE    SCENE.  115 

to  live  on  mere  charity;  even  if  we  could  afford 
to  maintain  her  :  and  as  to  lier  having  any 
parish  relief,  that  is  quite  out  of  the-qucstion  ; 
it  would  break  her  heart  to  mention  such  a 
thins: — I  think  we  must  increase  our  home 
establishment  of  ducks  and  turkeys,  and  make 
her  the  overseer ;  and  then  again,  there  are  her 
poor  little  ones,  that's  the  worst  of  it — they 
would  drive  them  about  so." 

In  tliis  perplexity  the  worthy  minister  silently 
swallowed  several  mouthfuls  of  Yorkshire  pud- 
ding, till  roused  again  by  Hamilton's  saying — 

"  Then  Mr.  Edward  Longcroft  does  not  play 
the  Quixote  so  far  as  to  go  about  redressing 
the  wrongs  of  his  uncle's  tenants,  and  portion- 
ing the  damsels  in  marriage,  and  fathering  the 
orphans." 

"  Vriiy  you  know,  my  dear  Sir,"  said  the 
Rector,  "it  woiild  not  be  quite  the  thing  for 
liim  to  say  to  tlie  world,  my  uncle  is  proud  and 
avaricious,  and  ruled  by  a  rascally  stev.ard  ;  but 


116  A    COTTAGE    SCENE. 

I  am  generous  and  noble,  and  wlien  I  come  into 
his  landed  property,  you  see  what  a  different 
use  I  shall  make  of  it !  He  does  a  great  deal  of 
good  in  a  very  unostentatious  manner,  and  so 
does  Miss  Longcroft ;  and  I  dare  say  when  they 
get  to  hear  of  poor  Alice's  troubles,  she  will  not 
be  without  help." 

"  Oil,"  said  Catherine,  «'  but  I  want  her  to 
remain  in  her  own  little  cottage,  where  every 
cabbage  in  the  garden  is  of  her  husband's 
planting,  and  every  bud  that  comes  out  in  the 
spring  is  like  the  return  of  an  old  acquaints 
ance." 

Catherine's  heart  was,  indeed,  so  much  set 
on  this  object  that  she  would  have  gone  imme- 
diately after  dinner  to  interest  Louisa  in  it, 
had  she  not  been  certain  that  darkness  would 
overtake  her  before  she  could  get  there — she  re- 
solved, however,  that  the  next  morning  nothing 
should  prevent  her;  but  unfortunately,  when 
the  morning  came,  the  rain  came  with  it,  and 


A   COTTAGE    SCENE.  117 

fell  in  torrents,  which  confined  her  effectually 
to  the  house,  to  the  evident  joy  of  Hamilton, 
who  seemed  as  if  he  was  resolved  to  frustrate 
her  design  ;  for  the  next  day  and  the  next,  he 
went  out  by  himself  on  a  ramble,  and  contrived 
to  keep  her  waiting  both  times,  in  expectation 
every  instant  of  his  return,  till  again  it  was  too 
lafte  to  attempt  walking  to  the  Hall,  never- 
theless, she  blamed  herself  for  her  procrastina- 
tion. 

"  I  am  determined,"  thought  she,  "  I  will  not 
be  put  off  again,  by  any  thing  whatsoever. 
This  very  day  I  will  call  on  Fanny  BrayswicK, 
and  ask  her  to  walk  with  me  to  Louisa's,  and 
Colonel  Hamilton  must  learn  to  amuse  himself 
for  a  few  hours." 

That  very  day,  however,  he  set  her  at  ease 
with  respect  to  his  amusements,  by  telling  her 
that  he  had  an  engagem^'nt  to  dine  out,  and  that 
he  should  set  off  early  to  fulfil  it.  Catherine 
was  a  little  surprised  at  this  information,  as  she 


118  A    COTTAGE    SCENE. 

did  not  know  of  any  acijuaintaiice  that  he  had 
in  the  neiglibourhood;  and  yet  tliat  he  was 
more  tlian  usually  interested  in  his  visit  was 
evident,  from  the  impatient  prognostics  he  made 
respecting  the  weather,  and  the  exactness  with 
which  he  set  his  watch,  when  tlie  vilhige  clock 
struck  tv/elve. 

"  Come,"  said  he,  *'  you  are  going  to  call  on 
Miss  Braysv/ick,  you  say.  I  shall  just  have 
time  to  escort  you  so  far  ;  and  confess  the  trutli 
now,  that  you  are  very  glad  lean  go  no  farther. 
I  must  be  a  most  unmerciful  gene  sometimes, — 
I  would  give  half  my  income  for  your  pati- 
ence." 

"  Arid  I  half  mine  for  your  humility,"  said 
Catherine  laughing,  as  she  ran  upstairs  for  her 
pelisse.  Hamilton  was  all  spirits  as  soon  as 
they  got  out  of  doors. 

"  I  was  so  afraid  it  vvould  raiij,"  said  he,  '*  a 
shower  would  have  overset  all  my  philosophy." 

**He  must  be  greatly  interested  in  this  visit," 


A    COTTAGE    SCENE.  119 

tliought  Catherine;  and  whilst  she  was  wonder- 
ing where  it  could  be,  they  arrived  at  the  end 
of  the  lane  where  Alice  lived,  and  which  tliey 
had  to  pass  in  the  road  to  Mrs.  Brayswick's: 
Hamilton  turned  towards  it. 

"  Here  then  we  part,  I  suppose,"  said 
Catherine. 

"  No — we  v.'ill  take  a  look  at  the  deserted 
cottage ;  it  is  not  a  hundred  yards  up  the 
lane." 

"  Well,  then,  go  witli  me  to  Fanny's,  and 
then  we  can  take  it  in  our  way  to  the  Hall ; 
the  next  turn  in  the  road  brings  us  to  Mrs. 
Brayswick's,  you  know." 

"  I  do;  and  tiierefore  I  beg  you  to  let  us  turn 
before  we  get  there.  Your  friend  Fanny's 
round,  laughing  face  is  so  unsentimental ; — and 
then  her  brother  William,  with  his  white  hair 
and  red  cheeks.  What  a  pair  to  visit  the  Para- 
clete, or  Rousseau's  tomb  with  !" 

"  But  we  are  not  going  to  visit  either  the 


120  A    COTTAGK    SCENE. 

one  or  the  otlier,  at  present — since,  however, 
you  are  so  saucy,  certainly  I  shall  not  intrude 
either  Fanny's  smile,  or  William's  blushes  upon 
you — so  good  morning." 

"  No,"  said  he,  catching  her  extended  hand, 
and  detaining  it,  "  you  shall  not  go  away  with- 
out a  look  at  the  cottage." 

A  few  steps  brought  them  to  it  :  newly 
whitewashed,  and  its  little  casements  put  into 
complete  repair,  it  seemed  already  destined  to 
the  possession  of  some  more  fortunate  tenant. 

"  That  hard-hearted  Richardson  !"  exclaimed 
Catherine,  "  he  has  not  lost  much  time— it  is 
of  no  use  my  speaking  to  Louisa  now — I'm 
glad  poor  Alice  will  not  see  it  repaired  and  beau- 
tified, as  the  churchwardens  say — but  bless  me  ! 
surely  that's  her  little  boy  looking  out  at  the 
door." 

"  Ah,  the  young  forrager,  sure  enough — let 
us  ask  him  how  his  pig  bore  his  journey," 

Catherine  went  up  to  the  cottage,  her  sur- 


A   -COTTAGE    SCENE.  121 

fwize  increased — Alice  herself  was  there — not 
weeping  and  disconsolate,  but  in  her  best  gown, 
the  cloth  laid  for  dinner,  and  a  smoking  piece 
of  beef,  and  hot  apple  pie  waiting  on  the  top  of 
the  oven,  ready  to  be  put  on  the  table. 

"Well !  this  is  a  new  kind  of  distress,"  said 
Catherine. 

"  Quite  the  German  style  though,"  said 
Hamilton,  reconnoitring  the  viands  through  his 
glass,  "  misery  and  bread  and  butter;  a  pocket- 
handkerchief  in  one  hand,  a  knife  and  fork  in 
the  other." 

Alice  now  came  forward  with  grateful  curte- 
sies to  Hamilton,  as  the  author  of  her  comforts, 
and  to  Catherine  as  the  instigator  of  his  bene- 
volence ;  for  she  had  penetration  enough  to  see 
that  going  about  to  befriend  the  poor  and  help- 
less, was  not  his  habitual  employment. 

"  Well,  we  are  punctual  you  see,"  said  Hamil- 
ton, "  I  told  Miss  Neville  I  was  engaged  to  dine 

VOL.    I.  G 


122  A    COTTAGE    SCENE, 

with  you,  and  so  she  was  good  enough  to  say 
she  would  come  with  me." 

Catherine  could  not  help  laughing  at  the  gay 
impertinence  with  which  he  uttered  this  false- 
hood, but  she  was  too  much  pleased  with  him 
at  that  moment  to  contradict  it ;  when,  however, 
he  took  out  his  watch,  and  said  they  must  wait 
a  few  minutes,  as  he  expected  a  gentleman  to 
join  the  party,  she  looked  a  little  gi-ave,  but 
he  might  mean  her  father  ;  and  when  he  went 
to  the  door  to  look  if  his  guest  were  coming, 
she  asked  Alice  if  she  knew  who  he  was  expect- 
ing. 

"  Noa  Miss,  I  no*but  know  that  he  gi'd  money 
yesterday?  on  purpose  to  get  things  for  dinner 
to-day, and  telled  me  he  should  bring  company; 
— he's  been  a  kind  friend.  Miss,  to  me,  and  my 
poor  bairns ;  and  I  know  I  has  to  thank  you 
for  it — morning  you  seed  me  he  cam  back 
directly,  and  telled  me  not  to  freet,  an  tak  on 


A    COTTAGE    SCENE,  1^ 

sae,  for  lie  wad  tak  care  I  should  n't  leave 
this  here  spot,  as  I  was  so  fond  on't  like ;  and 
he  gi'd  me  a  whole  ten-pound  bill,  and  telled  me 
to  send  for  bricklayer  and  glazener,  and  get 
every  thing  mended  and  set  to  rights,  and 
cleared  up,  and  he  would  pay  for  it — he's  made 
me  as  happy  as  I  can  be,  whilst  John's  away — 
poor  fellow,  if  he  was  but  here  to  see  me,  and 
his  poor  bairns  sae  comfortable !  but  it  must 
be  as  God  pleases." 

Just  then  the  "  twanging  horn  "  proclaimed 
the  York  coach  was  going  past  the  end  of  the 
lane,  and  Hamilton  entered  with  an  exulting 
air,  saying,— 

"  Well,  we  may  sit  down,  our  visitor  will  be 
here  in  a  minute." 

Catherine  hesitated :    when  the  door  opened, 

and  in  rushed  John  Pierson  himself !  his  wife 

shrieked   with    surprise,    and    joy  !     "  daddy ! 

daddy !"  the  little   ones   called  out,   "  daddy's 

G  2 


124  A    COTTAGE    SCENE. 

corned  back  again  !  daddy  we've    getten  meat 
and  apple  pie  for  dinner." 

The  poor  fellow  himself  was  for  a  few  minutes 
so  overpowered  wtih  his  feelings,  that  at  first 
he  saw  no  one  in  the  room  but  his  wife  and 
children  ;  soon  however  recovering  himself,  he 
gave  the  infant,  which  he  then  beheld  for  the 
first  time,  back  to  its  mother,  and  taking  off  his 
hat  with  some  of  the  air  a  la  militaii'e  which  he 
had  acquired  under  the  instructions  of  his  drill 
Serjeant,  short  as  they  had  been,  he  turned 
round  to  Hamilton,  and  said,  "  My  Colonel  telled 
me  Sirj  a  gentleman  had  been  so  good  as  to 
send  money  for  my  discharge — if  so  be  as  how 
you  be  the  gentleman,  I'se  sure.  Sir,  I'se  very 
much  obliged  to  you;  and  to  you  too.  Miss 
Neville,  I'se  sure." 

Catherine  blushed  at  the  implied  connection 
between  Hamilton  and  herself,  but  in  truth  she 
had  never  felt  more  kindness  towards  him,  than 


A    COTTAGE    SCENE.  1*25 

at  that  moment  when  she  saw  hkn  surrounded 
by  a  whole  family,  whose  sorrow  he  had  turn- 
ed into  joy :  he  was  in  fact  just  then  in  the  con- 
dition of  Pope's  Flavia,  who — 

**  Made  a  widow  happy,  for  a  whiin." 

and  his  countenance  was  all  animation,  with 
an  excitement  to  which  he  might  perhaps 
have  applied  the  envied  adverb  once. — 
But  Catherine  viewing  the  action  through 
the  glowing  medium  of  her  own  benevolent 
disposition,  it  became,  in  her  eyes,  one  of  the 
most  exalted  virtue,  and  she  expressed  her 
sense  of  it  by  a  smile  so  refulgent,  that  it  con- 
veyed more  meaning  than  volumes  of  acknow- 
ledgement, and  threw  a  light  upon  Hamilton's 
inmost  soul,  which  showed  how  large  a  portion 
of  it  had  hitherto  lain  in  steril  darkness.  They 
soon  left  the  happy  pair  to  the  enjoyment  of 
their  beef  and  apple-pie,  and  children's  prattle ; 


126  A    COTTAGE    SCENE. 

and  proceeded  to  call  on  Fanny  Brayswick,  for 
as  Catherine  had  made  the  appointment  with 
her  to  walk  to  Longcroft  Hall,  she  would  not 
break  it;  though  she  was  delighted  to  think 
that  the  immediate  motive  for  it  had  ceased  to 
exist;  Hamilton  only  accompanied  her  to  the 
door,  and  then  took  his  leave,  much  to  the  joy 
of  William  Brayswick,  who  happened  to  be  at 
home,  and  volunteered  his  company  to  take 
care  of  the  ladies  on  their  way.  Fanny  soon 
saw  by  Catherine's  sparkling  eyes,  and  lively 
enjoyment  of  the  walk,  that  something  had 
occurred  that  morning  to  raise  her  spirits,  even 
beyond  their  usual  pitch;  and  Catherine  scarce- 
ly waited  for  an  enquiry  into  the  cause,  so  well 
pleased  was  she  to  have  an  opportunity  of 
relating  any  thing  that  redounded  so  much  to 
Colonel  Hamilton's  credit.  The  surprize  ex- 
pressed by  her  auditors  could  not  however  be 
deemed  very  flattering,  as  it  shewed  that  they 


A    COTTAGE    SCENE.  127 

had  formed  an  opinion  of  him,  quite  the  con- 
trary to  any  that  this  account  might  be  calcu- 
lated to  inspire. 

**  Well  to  be  sure,"  said  Fanny,  ''  I  am 
astonished;  because,  somehow,  he  does  not 
seem  a  likely  man  at  all  to  care  about  poor 
people,  and  distress,  and  things  of  that  sort." 

"  No,  indeed,"  said  William,  "  I  should  have 
thought  him  much  more  likely  to  order  a  man 
up  to  the  halberts,  than  to  try  to  get  one  dis- 
charged." 

"  You  do  not  often  think  so  ill-naturedly," 
said  Catherine,  "  and  why  should  you  now  ? — 
Colonel  Hamilton  has  not  been  in  the  way  of 
seeing  humble  life  as  familiarly  as  we ;  it  is 
not,  therefore,  very  surprising,  that  he  should 
not  seek  out  the  distresses  it  is  liable  to — but  it 
does  not  follow  that  he  would  knowingly  do  any 
thing  to  aggravate  them." 

"  No,  to  be  sure,  that*s  a  different  thing," 
said  Fanny^  "  at  any  rate,  he  has  shewn  him- 


128  A    COTTAGE    SCENE. 

self  very  generous  with  respect  to  poor  Alice ; 
and  how  rich  he  must  be  too  ! — I  wish  he  had 
employed  Mr.  Pugh,  when  he  first  came  to 
your  house,  and  was  so  ill." 

"Fanny's  always  thinking  of  Mr.  Pugh  now;" 
said  William,  "  I  do  believe  she  was  glad  when 
I  had  a  kick  from  my  horse,  last  week,  because 
my  mother  made  me  send  for  Mr.  Pugh  to 
bleed  me." 

The  denial  of  this  charge,  and  the  bringing 
fresh  proof  in  corroboration  of  it,  employed 
the  parties  concerned  till  they  got  within  sight 
of  Longcroft  Hall,  which  supplied  them  with 
another  topic,  in  wondering  whether  the  family 
were  at  home,  and  what  they  should  talk 
about. 

"  Do  you  speak,  pray  Catherine,"  said  Fanny, 
<*  if  there's  a  pause,  for  I  never  know  what  to 
say  when  there  has  been  a  long  silence ;  and 
you  always  come  out  with  something  so  nice, 
aud  just  what  I  should  like  to  have  said," 


A    COTTAGE    SCENE.  129 

Louisa  Longcroft  had  so  much  the  happy  art 
of  setting  every  one  at  ease,  tliat  she  elicited 
the  nothings  of  William  Brayswick  and  his 
sister  with  as  much  satisfaction  to  themselves, 
as  they  had  expected  to  derive  merely  from 
listening  to  the  conversation  which  they  had 
calculated  on  being  confined  to  her  and  Cathe- 
rine ;  and  much  were  they  gratified  at  being 
further  included  in  an  invitation  to  dine  at  the 
Hall,  the  next  day,  with  Mr.  Neville  and 
Catherine. 

"  Quite  in  a  friendly  way,"  said  Louisa  ; 
"  walk  here  if  the  day  be  as  fine  as  it  is  now, 
and  our  carriage  shall  take  you  home." 

"No,"  said  Catherine,  "my  father  would 
not  hear  of  that,  I  know  :  but  we  can  walk, 
and  he  can  ride  his  poney,  and  we  will  have 
the  chaise"  (there  was  but  one  in  the  place) 
"  come  for  us  in  the  evening;  and  Mr.  William 
Brayswick  will  have  the  kindness,  1  am  sure, 
to  mount  the  poney  home ;  and  then  my  father 
G  5 


130  A    COTTAGE    SCENE. 

will  return  with  us  in  the  chaise,  and  he  will 
run  no  risk  of  taking  cold." 

"  Very  well — then  you  shall  have  cards  sent 
this  evening  :  not  that  I  should  stand  on  that 
ceremony  with  you,  dear  Catherine,  or  with 
Miss  Brayswick  either,  but  of  course  we  should 
wish  to  include  Colonel  Hamilton,  as  he  is  Mr. 
Neville's  visitor,  and,  therefore,  we  must  ob- 
serve the  proper  form  of  the  thing." 

Louisa  spoke  so  pointedly  of  asking  Hamilton 
merely  as  a  matter  of  politeness,  which  could 
not  be  avoided,  that  Catherine  felt  grieved  at 
the  distinction  it  implied  ;  and  could  not  help 
wondering  how  it  could  happen  that  persons  in 
the  same  rank  of  life,  alike  gifted  by  nature  as 
by  fortune,  and  who  must,  in  all  probability,  be 
liable  continually  to  meet  in  the  same  parties 
in  tov/n,  should  seom  anxious  to  have  as  little 
as  possible  to  c!o  with  each  other  in  the  country, 
where  it  might  be  reasonably  imagined  there 
was  every  cause  for  them  to  be  glad  of  each 


A    COTTAGE    SCENE.  131 

other's  society.  She  longed  to  tell  Louisa  of 
Hamilton's  kindness  to  the  Piersons,  the  know- 
ledge of  which,  it  appeared  to  her,  must  effec- 
tually remove  every  prejudice  against  him,  if 
any  such  existed  ;  but  still  there  was  something 
so  unpleasant  in  the  idea  of  holding  out  a  sort 
of  bribe  in  his  behalf,  that  she  resolved  to  trust 
him  with  his  own  cause..  ''  They  cannot  be- 
come acquainted  with  him  and  not  like  him," 
thought  she,  "and  I  had  rather  they  should 
form  their  own  opinion  of  him,  titan  that  I 
should  seem  to  wish  to  bias  them  by  mine." 

At  dinner,  however,  Catherine  found  no  such 
restraint  upon  her  tongue,  and  she  informed 
her  father  of  the  whole  adventure  of  her  morn- 
ing's walk,  in  tlie  presence  of  Hamilton  ;  who 
smiled  to  hear  how  much  a  very  simple  inci- 
dent might  gain  interest  from  the  manner  of  its 
being  related  ;  and  Mr.  Neville  smiled  too,  with 
pleasure  at  the  thought  of  the  good  action  his 
pupil  had  done,  and  that  by  its  timely  appli- 


132  A    COTTAGE    SCENE. 

caiion,  an  industrious,  honest  pair  had  been 
saved  from  the  wound,  once  so  mortal  to  the 
feelings  of  an  English  peasant,  of  seeking  relief 
from  the  parish — "  You  have  done  more  good 
Sir,"  said  he,  "  even  than  you  calculated  upon — 
every  time  a  poor  man  is  rescued  from  parish  re- 
lief I  count  upon  a  loyal  subject  being  preserved 
to  tlie  state,  and  a  good  member  to  society.  I 
thank  heaven  hitherto  I  have  preserved  all  my 
parishioners  from  the  injustice,  and  disgrace  of 
being  paid  any  part  of  their  lawful  hard-earned 
wages  out  of  the  parish  rates;  setting  them  the 
example,  by  so  doing,  of  extortion  and  ingrati- 
tude, which  we  are  loud  in  accusing  them  of, 
when  they  follov/  it ;  as  they  naturally  enough 
are  but  too  ready  to  do,  when  we  have  once 
deprived  them  of  every  feeling  of  honest  inde- 
pendence, and  confounded  all  their  notions  of 
right  and  wrong — Give  me  my  text-book,  my 
dear,  I  have  long  thought  of  giving  a  discourse 
on  the  words  '  Thou  shalt  not  sleep  with  the 


A    COTTAGE    SCENE.  133 

wages  of  an  hireling  in  tliy  hands'  and  I  will 
do  it  this  very  nevt  Sunday ;  for  somehow  or 
other,  I  did  not  quite  like  the  looks  of  one  of 
our  overseers,  last  vestry  meeting,  when  I  ob- 
jected to  his  proposition  for  raising  the  rates, 
and  lowering  the  wages." 

Just  then  the  cards  arrived  from  the  Hall. — 
The  Rector  put  on  his  spectacles,  seeing  there 
were  two. 

"  Every  man  his  bird  I  see  ;"  said  he,  hand- 
ing one  of  tliem  to  Neville,  "  quite  in  style.  I 
suppose  we  must  go;  indeed  I  shall  be  glad  of 
it,  for  I  want  to  have  a  little  talk  with  Mr. 
Longcroft,  touching  the  poor  widow  that  they 
have  been  trying  to  find  a  settlement  for,  in  his 
parish." 

Catherine  had  not  said  a  word  of  the  ex- 
pected invitation  before ;  she  now  placed  the 
inkstand  and  paper  before  Hamilton,  according 
to  his  request ;  but  she  was  greatly  mortified  to 
see  him  scrawl,  in  his  most  careless  manner,  a 


134  A    COTTAGE    SCENE. 

negative,  couched  in  terras  as  concise  as  the 
commonest  forms  of  civility  would  admit  of* 
The  rudeness  was  not  merely  to  the  Longcrofts, 
she  felt  it  fully  as  much  to  her  father  and  her- 
self; but  true  politeness  can  be  taught  by  the 
heart  alone;  and  Colonel  Hamilton,  with  all  the 
polished  profession  of  perpetually  sacrificing  his 
own  inclinations  to  the  wishes  of  oihers,  re- 
tained far  too  much  of  the  seliishness  which 
indulgence  and  flatteries  must  inevitably  gene- 
rate, even  to  do  so  in  reality.  She  nevertheless 
wrote  her  father's  acceptance,  and  her  own  of 
the  invitation,  and  could  not  help  feeling  a 
little  triumph  in  the  discovery,  that  Hamilton 
was  piqued  at  the  readiness  with  which  she  did 
so. 

"  And  why  would  not  you,  then,  accept  tl.e 
civility,  which  you  knew  very  well  was  meant 
as  such  ?'*  slie  replied,  to  a  reproach  he  made 
her  between  jest  and  earnest,  for  being  willing 
CO  leave  him  so  long  to  himself. 


A    COTTAGE    SCENE.  135 

*' Because  it  is  a  bore,"  he  exclaimed,  smother- 
ing a  yawn  at  the  thought ;  "  to  dine  out  when 
onecoraes  into  the  country  to  be  retired.  No  man 
in  his  senses  would  seek  the  wilds  of  Craven  to 
see  plough-boys  dressed  out  in  livery  coats,  run 
against  each  other  with  boiled  turkies,  and 
roasted  pigs,  and  jingle  the  glasses  in  the  ears 
of  the  guests,  before  they  can  get  them  unfisted 
— and  then  I  suppose  Miss  Brayswick  and  her 
brother  will  give  toasts,  and  sentiments — the 
single  married  and  the  married  happy ;  and  cham- 
paign to  our  real  friends,  and  real  pain  to  our 
sham  friends  ;  and  then  such  of  ihe  party  as  are 
blest  with  singing  faces  will  be  called  on  to 
favour  the  company  with  a  scng,  voice  or  taste 
unnecessary." 

"  No,  Sir,"  said  Catherine,  somewhat  resent- 
fully, "  your  description  might  have  done  very 
well  for  a  country  christening  fifty  years  ago  ; 
but  it  has  notliing  to  do  in  the  present  day, 
with    such    people    as    you    would  meet    with 


186  A    COTTAGE    SCENE, 

at  Loiigcroft  Hall.  I  dare  say  you  would  not  see 
any  difference  between  a  party  there,  and  iu 
your  own  drawing-room  in  London." 

"  Catherine  is  right  enough  ;"said  Mr.  Neville, 
"  all  places  and  all  persons  are  much  alike  in 
the  present  day.  The  mail  coaches  go  on  the 
levelling  principle,  they  equalize  all  things; 
bless  me,  Sir,  I  can  remember  when  a  lady 
getting  a  new  bonnet  from  London,  became 
the  envy  of  all  her  neighbours  ;  and  as  for  a 
visit  to  the  metropolis,  it  was  much  more  a  dis- 
tinction then,  than  it  is  now  to  run  all  over  the 
continent;  and  indeed  few  private  gentlemen 
saw  it  oftener  than  once  in  their  life-time." 

"  And  so  much  the  better  for  them,"  said 
Hamilton — ''  country  gentlemen,  as  king  James 
told  them,  are  best  at  home  ;  there,  as  he  said, 
they  are  like  ships  in  rivers,  and  make  a  grand 
figure,  and  in  London  they  are  like  ships  at  sea, 
scarcely  seen  at  all."  „ 

"Yes,  yes;  I  don't  like  absenteeism  of  any 


A    COTTAGE    SCENE.  137 

sort,"  said  the  good  Rector — "  You  must  set  a 
good  example,  Hamilton,  when  you  are  Earl  of 
Winterdale,  and  stay  at  home  and  improve  your 
estates,  and  make  your  people  about  you  happy." 
Hamilton  did  not  seem  to  have  made  up  his 
mind  very  exactly  as  to  his  future  plans— but 
however,  he  saw  he  had  offended  Catherine, 
and  it  was  quite  occupation  enough  for  him  at 
the  moment,  to  try  to  restore  himself  to  her 
good  graces ;  which  a  little  raillery  on  his  side 
in  return  for  a  little  pouting  on  hers,  an  extra 
game  at  chess,  and  a  fine  sonata  of  Beethoven's, 
enabled  him  to  accomplish,  long  before  the  even- 
ing was  concluded. 


38 


CHAPTER  VITI. 


A  DINNER  AT  THE  HALL. 


A  VISIT  to  Loiigcroft  Hall  had  always 
been  one  of  Catherine's  greatest  enjoyments  ; 
but,  somehow  or  other,  it  happened  this  time, 
that  she  was  so  busy  with  her  affaires  de  mmoge, 
that  when  the  Brayswicks  called  for  her  she 
had  not  even  begun  to  dress ;  so  away  she  ran 
up  stairs,  and  Fanny  after  her,  to  help  her,  ex- 
claiming : — 


A    DINNER    AT    THE    HALL.  139 

"  O  do  make  haste,  there's  a  good  girl ! — 
What  a  delightful  day  it  is  !  we  shall  have  such 
a  nice  walk,  and  William  is  in  such  spirits ! — 
Why  wouldn't  Colonel  Hamilton  go  ?" 

"  I  don't  know — ^I  tliink  he  does  not  like 
Edward  Longcroft,  but  I  don't  know  why." 

"  No,  indeed,  I  tliink  not,  nor  he  neither,  I 
dare  say.  Well,  he'll  be  fine  and  dull  by  him* 
self!  I  hope  we  shall  have  a  party." 

Now  Catherine  hoped  not — for  she  was  so 
fond  of  Louisa  Longcroft  that  she  never  wished 
for  any  other  company,  when  she  went  to  the 
Hall :  just  now,  however,  her  head  was  full  of 
so  many  other  things,  that  she  scarcely  heard 
what  her  friend  talked  about,  whilst  she  was 
tying  her  sash  for  her,  and  fastening  her  brace- 
lets; and  as  soon  as  ever  her  glass  informed  her 
that  her  toilet  was  finished,  she  ran  down  stairs, 
putting  her  bonnet  on  as  she  went,  and  looking 
into  the  kitchen  for  the  third  or  fourth  time — 
"  Now  Rachel,"  said  she,  ^'  be  sure   you  re- 


140  A    DINNER    AT    THE    HALL. 

member  that  the  chicken  must  be  boiled  just 
twenty  minutes,  no  more, — and  parsley  and 
butter, — mind, — not  white  sauce, — remember 
that  Rachel ; — all  Londoners  hate  white  sauce.'* 

"  Ah  Miss,  well  they  may — they've  not  such 
cream  as  ours  to  make  it  with — but  I'll  take 
care,  and  I  know  the  Colonel  will  like  the  tarts 
— you  never  made  greater  beauties." 

"  Oh  take  care  of  their  complexions,  then, 
my  good  Rachel,  and  don't  let  that  wicked  oven 
scorch  them." 

Rachel  laughed,  and  away  flew  Catherine, 
but  meeting  Margaret,  again  detained  her. 

"  NoWj  Margaret,  mind  and  set  some  filberts 
on  the  table,  after  dinner,  with  the  fruit  and 
biscuits — for  Colonel  Hamilton  will  want  some- 
tliing  to  amuse  himself  with,  as  he  will  be  all 
alone — and  remember  that  he  likes  coffee  early 
— and  mind  that  it  is  strong  and  clear — one 
good  cup — he  never  takes  more." 

]Margaret    was    just    promising    obedience. 


A    DINNER    AT    THE    HALL.  141 

When  the  object  of  all  this  solicitude  appeared, 
and  cut  short  the  remainder  of  the  injunctions; 
for  it  was  a  maxim  with  Catherine,  which  she 
in  general  most  happily  realised,  that  the  com- 
forts of  a  house  should  be  the  result  of 
habitual  regulations ;  not  of  directions  at  the 
moment. 

"  I  will  walk  part  of  the  way  with  )'ou — if 
you  will  give  me  leave,"  said  he ;  "I  shall  find 
the  day  quite  long  enough,  let  me  do  what  I 
may  to  get  it  over." 

"  No,  I  hope  not,"  said  Catherine,  "  I  would 
not  go,  if  1  thought  you  would  feel  uncomfort- 
able at  being  left  alone.  Ah,  you  smile  !  you 
were  only  jesting  then — indeed  I  might  have 
known  you  could  not  be  in  earnest." 
"  Why  not  ?" 

*'  Because  you  have  so  many  resources." 
"  I  shall  find  one  quite  enough  for  me." 
He  expected  Catherine  would  ask  him  what 
that  one  might  be ;  but  she  did  not,  and,  there- 


]42  A    DINNER    AT    THE    HALL* 

fore  the  answer  wliich  lie  had  prepared  re- 
mained known  only  to  himself.  He,  however, 
walked  half-way  to  the  Hall  with  the  party, 
and  then  took  his  leave,  much  to  the  joy  of 
William  Brayswick,  who,  when  he  was  fairly 
out  of  sight,  ventured  to  shew  his  politeness  to 
Catherine,  by  helping  her  over  the  stiles,  and 
his  wit  to  his  sister,  by  leaving  her  to  climb 
them  by  herself. 

Fanny's  wish  to  find  something  more  than  a 
family  party  at  the  Hall,  was  not  gratified,  as 
no  other  visitors  had  been  invited — still  her 
ready  good  humour,  and  innocent  vivacity, 
found  abundance  wherewith  to  be  pleased,  in 
the  novelty  and  elegance  of  every  tliing  around 
her— and  her  admiration  of  the  side-board  of 
plate,  and  the  dessert  service  of  cut-glass,  be- 
trayed itself  so  strongly  in  her  countenance, 
that  Mr.  Longcroft  condescended  to  note  it  in 
the  tablets  of  his  memory,  and  say  after  the 
day  was  over,  that  really  that  Miss  Brayswick 


A    DINNER    AT    THE    HALL.  143 

was  a  very  pretty  animated  looking  girl,  and 
seemed  not  to  want  for  sense !  There  was, 
however,  under  his  daughter's  direction,  so 
much  in  ISIr.  Longcroft's  establishment  to  be 
admired,  even  by  those  who  were  accustomed 
to  greater  luxuries  than  Fanny  Brayswick  was, 
and  such  an  air  of  comfort  joined  to  refinement, 
that  Catherine,  as  she  looked  around,  wished 
Colonel  Hamilton  had  been  with  them,  if  only 
to  see  that  the  wilds  of  Craven  could  shew  a 
party  surrounded  by  as  many  elegancies  as 
could  be  attained  even  in  the  metropolis,  out 
of  which  he  had  often  said  it  was  not  desirable 
to  exist.  Her  thoughts  did  not,  however,  stray 
back  to  the  Rectory  for  more  than  a  moment : 
they  were  now  recalled  by  Edward  Longcroft, 
who  sate  next  to  her,  and  who  extended  his 
attentions  to  her  friend  Fanny,  with  that  genu- 
ine politeness  which  is  the  result  of  amiable 
feeling,  and  which  did  not  indicate  much  of  the 
pride  which   Catherine   had   accused   him  of. 


144  A    DINNER    AT    THE    HALL* 

when  she  said  he  was  growing  like  his  uncle. 
But  in  spite  of  all  his  endeavours  to  make  the 
conversation  general,  he  could  not  prevent  Mr. 
Longcroft  and  Mr.  Neville  from  getting  upon 
the  corn  question,  and  the  landed  interest,  and 
the  composition  of  tithes ;  and  then,  in  com- 
mon charity,  he  was  obliged  to  ask  William 
Brayswick  about  his  horses,  and  that  brought 
on  an  account  of  coursing,  and  covers  and 
guns  and  dogs,  and  divers  other  subjects  of  that 
kind,  which  generally  give  the  ladies  a  hint 
that  they  have  favored  the  gentlemen  with  their 
company  long  enough  ;  and  accordingly  Miss 
Longcroft  rose,  and  led  the  way  to  the  drawing- 
room. 

Here  Fanny  found  fresh  subject  of  admira 
tion  in  some  beautiful  medallions  and  designs, 
with  which  Louisa  was  going  to  ornament  a 
cabinet,  in  imitation  of  Mosaic  work ;  and 
whilst  she  was  looking  at  them,  and  receiving 
instructions,  most  good-naturedly  given,  respec- 


A    DINNER    AT    THE    HALL.  145 

iflg  the  method  of  fixing  tljem.  Catherine,  who 
was  already  acquaiuted  with  it,  took  up  the 
newspaper,  on  which  tliey  had  lain,  and  finding 
it  to  be  the  "  Morning  Post,"  began  to  look  at 
it  with  the  interest  which  a  remembrance  of 
her  happy  visit  to  the  metropolis,  with  her 
sister,  had  left,  ever  after,  in  her  mind.  Her 
eye  glanced  rapidly  over  the  advertisements 
and  politics,  to  come  to  the  account  of  the 
different  exhibitions,  and  theatricals ;  but  it 
was  arrested  in  its  progress,  by  a  paragraph, 
under  the  head  of  tlie  "  Mirror  of  the  Mode," 
which  was  marked  in  the  margin  by  the  stroke 
of  a  pen. 

"  The  honorable  Mr.  Halston  has  i*eturned 
from  his  continental  trip,  and  is  at  present  at 
his  seat  in  Westmoreland.  Colonel  Hamilton 
we  believe  has  not  left  the  country,  as  was  re- 
ported ;  having  preferred  rusticating  in  the  wilds 
of  Yorkshire,  where  it  should  seem  he  has  found 

VOL.    ].  H 


146  A    DINNER    AT    THE    HALL. 

a  cure  for  the  wound  he  received  in  his  rencon- 
tre with  Sir  William  Forsyth,  who  is  now,  we 
are  happy  to  add,  considered  entirely  out  of 
danger." 

The  letters  swam  before  Catherine's  sight  as 
she  inclined  her  head  over  the  paper,  to  con- 
sider and  reconsider  this  paragraph,  which 
seemed  to  have  been  put  purposely  in  her  way ; 
that  it  referred  to  her  father's  guest  was  too 
evident,  and  that  it  referred  likewise  to  some 
event,  which,  however  sanctioned  by  modern 
notions  of  lionor,  was  disapproved  of  by  her 
father,  was  also  but  too  probable;  as  well  from 
the  concern  which  she  recollected  him  to  have 
betrayed  on  the  first  night  of  Colonel  Hamil- 
ton's arrival,  as  from  the  silence  which  the 
Colonel  himself  had  invariably  observed,  re-- 
sj>ecting  the  cause  of  his  sudden  visit  to  the 
Rectory. 

A  feeling  as  new  to  Catherine  as  it  was  pain- 


A    DINNER    AT    THE    HALL.  147 

ful  and  indefinable,  shot  through  her  heart,  as 
she  wondered,  to  herself,  whether  Sir  William 
Forsyth  was  a  married  man. 

"  Bless  me  !  my  dear  Catherine  !"  exclaimed 
Fanny  Brays  wick,  who  had  just  turned  hef 
head  to  look  towards  the  cabinet,  "  how  pale 
you  are — what's  the  matter  ?" 

"  Am  I  ?"  said  Catherine,  turning  in  an  in^ 
stant  like  crimson-^"  I  don't  know,  I'm  very 
well." 

But  she  burst  into  tears  as  she  spoke,  and 
Fanny's  eyes  instantly  filled,  as  she  reiterated 
her  enquiries  as  to  what  could  be  the  matter. 

"  I  am  afraid  Catherine,  my  dear,  you  feel 
the  effect  of  sitting  with  your  back  to  the 
fire,  at  dinner  time,"  said  Louisa,  "  I  thought 
then,  that  it  seemed  too  much  for  you." 

"  I  think  it  may  be  that,"  replied  Catherine, 
"  I  feel  in  such  a  tremor,  and  such  a  flutter  in 
my  spirits." 

"  It  is  that,  I  dare  say,"  said  Louisa;  "  the 
H  2 


148  A    DINNER   AT   THE    HALL. 

air  would  do  you  good.  It  is  too  cold  I  am 
afraid  to  walk  in  the  garden  now,  it  is  getting 
late ; — but  we  can  go  into  the  greenhouse  a 
little  while — and  when  we  come  back  you  shall 
hear  my  new  harp  music ; — who  knows  but  I 
may  charm  you  as  David  did  Saul." 

"  But  I  am  not  like  Saul^I  hope  you  don't 
think  I  am  possessed  with  an  Evil  Spirit." 

"  No,  I  cast  no  reflections,"  said  Louisa, 
with  a  smile,  the  archness  of  which  drew  forth 
another  on  Catherine's  countenance;  and  by 
the  time  the  gentlemen  obeyed  the  summons 
to  coffee,  the  roses  had  also  returned  to  it. 

After  tea,  Catherine  reminded  Louisa  of  her 
promise,  and  Edward  Longcroft  brought  her 
harp  forward.  She  had  got  all  the  new  airs 
and  divertimentos  of  the  season,  and  played 
them  so  pleasingly  as  soon  to  turn  the  tlioughts 
of  her  listeners  into  the  channel  of  gaiety. 

"  Come,"  said    Edward,   taking  Catherine's 
hand,   let  us  make   up  a  little  dance.     Louisa 


A    DINNER    AT    THE    HALL.  149 

will  play  some  of  Niel  Gow*s  reels  to  us. — 
Come,  Miss  Brayswick — Mr.  William,  let  us 
see  what  we  caa  do.'* 

Accordingly  they  began,  and  danced  reels 
for  about  half-an-hour,  though  Catherine  did 
not  feel  herself  in  that  happy  frame  of  mind 
which  had  given  elasticity  and  spirit  to  all  her 
movements,  the  week  before,  at  the  ball. 

When  they  sat  down,  Fanny  Brayswick  be- 
gan to  declare  how  much  she  doated  upon 
dancing,  and  how  she  should  like  to  see  qua- 
drilles and  waltzes  danced. 

"  They  are  pretty  enough,"  said  Louisa, 
"  for  show  dances;  but  for  real  cheerfulness 
and  sociability,  there  is  nothing  like  the  good 
old-fashioned  country  dance." 

"  Oh,  no,"  said  Edward,  "  for  there  is  no 
sitting  down  with  your  partner,  when  you  get 
to  the  bottom  ;  and  that,  after  all,  is  the  best 
part  of  the  dance." 


150  A    DINNER    AT   THE    HALL. 

"  Oh,  what  a  lazy  notion,"  said  Cathe- 
rine. 

"  And  a  bull  into  the  bargain,"  said 
Louisa. 

"  Fm  sure,"  said  William  Braysvvick,  "  I 
should  never  do  to  dance  quadrilles,  if  they  are 
like  cotillons;  for  I  never  could  manage  them 
at  dancing-school,  the  figures  changed  so  often, 
I  never  could  remember  half  of  them." 

"  Then  waltzes  would  suit  you  better,"  said 
Louisa,  half  smiling  at  the  thought  of  seeing 
Lim  attempt  one  ;  "  for  there  is  no  great  variety 
of  figure  in  them." 

"  Oh,  but  they  must  be  as  bad  the  other  way 
— you  only  go  round  and  round  the  room  in 
them,  like  a  horse  in  a  mill,  my  sister  says." 

"  No,  brother,  I  didn't  say  like  a  horse  in  a 
mill — I  did  say  they  went  round  and  round,  to 
be  sure;  and  so  they  do,  don't  they  Miss 
Longcroft  ?" 


A    DINNER    AT    THE    HALL.  151 

"  Certainly,"  said  Louisa,  rising  from  her 
harp,  and  sportively  gliding  lialf  round  tlie 
room,  with  her  arms  uplifted,  and  humming 
the  "  Hanoverian  Waltz." 

"  Ah,  now,"  said  Catherine,  "  there's  a  good 
creature  !  pray  sliew  us  this  fine  dance — re- 
member we  can  see  nothing  of  the  sort  here^ 
nothing  beyond  *  Money  in  both  Pockets,'  and 
<  Drops  of  Brandy.'  " 

"  And  very  good  things  in  their  way,"  said 
Edward ;  "  but  Louisa  never  waltzed  in  her 
life,  any  more  than  you,  or  Miss  Brayswick," 
and  as  he  spoke  he  looked  at  his  cousin  with  an 
approving  air,  which  shewed  that  he  thought 
all  the  better  of  her  for  not  having  done  so. 

"  Well,  but  Louisa  has  seen  others  waltz," 
said  Catherine,  "and  I  dare  say  she  will  be 
good-natured  enougli  just  to  shew  us  how  it  is." 
"  Oh  yes,"  said  Louisa,  "  that  I  will ;  and 
so  will  he  too — demure-looking  creature,  he 
waltzes  often  enough  himself," 


152  A    DINNER    AT   THE    HALL. 

Edward  laughed,  but  declared  bis  readiness 
to  help  bis  cousin  to  display  ber  graces,  and 
Catherine  went  to  the  pianoforte  to  play  to 
them. 

"  What  will  you  have?"  said  she,  "  here 
is  the  '  Hanoverian,'  and  the  '  Tyrolese,'  and 
the  '  German.' " 

*'  And  the  '  Honorable  Miss  Legge's,'  said 
Fanny,  helping  her  to  turn  over  the  leaves. 
"  And  «  Lady  Charlotte  Forsyth's." 

"  Ah,  that  will  do,"  said  Louisa,  "  for  it  is 
quite  new,  and  a  very  pretty  one ;  play  it  slowly 
first." 

Catherine  looked  at  the  name  so  intently, 
that  Louisa  thought  she  was  reading  the  notes. 
'^  It  is  not  at  all  difficult,"  said  she. 

Catherine  began,  and  as  she  listened  to  the 
air,  at  once  simple  and  soothing,  and  saw  the 
graceful  varieties  of  step  and  figure  which  it 
was  adapted  to  display,  she  began  to  think  that 
this  Lady  Charlotte  Forsyth,  if  she  danced  a 


A    DINNER    AT   THE    HALL.  153 

waltz  with  as  much  taste  as  she  liad  shewn  in 
the  composition  of  one,  must  be  a  very  fasci- 
nating sort  of  personage. 

"  Oh,  how  pretty !"  exclaimed  Fanny  Brays- 
wick,  at  the  end  of  it ;  *'  and  what  sweet  music  ! 
and  is  it  really  written  by  a  lady  ? — how  clever 
she  must  be  !" 

"  Yes,"  said  Edward  Longcroft,  ''  rather  too 
clever,  in  a  great  many  things.  She  does 
very  well  however,  for  a  leader  at  Almack's— 
there  she  is  in  her  element, 

"  She  moves  a  goddess,  and  she  looks  a  queen  ;** 

and  is  certainly  as  complete  a  specimen  of  the 
modern  travelled  fine  lady,  as  any  gentleman, 
mad  after  continental  varieties,  need  desire  to 
see." 

"  I  supposeLady  Charlotte, waltzes?'  said  Ca- 
therine, looking  at  the  name  again  as  she  spoke. 

"  Oh,  yes  !  and  dances  the  shawl  dance,  and 
recites  and  composes  too ;  a  complete  Corinne, 
H  5 


154  A    DINNER    AT    THE    HALL» 

"  She  must  be  very  much  admired^"  saitl 
Catherine. 

*'  A  great  deal  more  than  I  should  like  to  see 
my  wife  admired,  if  I  were  fortunate  enough 
to  have  one ;  at  least,  I  should  not  like  to  see 
her  excite  the  same  kind  of  admiration." 

"  Perhaps  if  she  were  married  she  would  not 
seek  it  so  mucli." 

"  I  do  not  know  that  matrimony  is  a  radical 
cure  for  vanity;  in  Lady  Charlotte's  case  it 
certainly  is  not,  for  she  has  tried  it  a  good  many 
years." 

"  What,  then,  Sir  William  Forsyth  is  her 
husband,"  said  Catherine,  with  an  emphasis  so 
strongly  expressive  of  an  interest  in  the  matter, 
that^  Edward  Longcroft  gravely  said — 

"  Is  there  any  thing  in  that  so  very  sur- 
prising ?" 

"  No,"  said  Catherine,  crimsoning  in  an  in- 
stant, "  nothing  very  surprising;  but  I  did  not 
think  of  her   being   married,   as  she  is  called 


A    DINNER    AT   THE    HALL.  155 

Lady  Charlotte — ^it  was  very  ignorant  in  me — 
I  might  have  recollected — but  I  do  not  know 
any  thing  about  fashionable  people — I  don't 
wish  it." 

Her  quick  manner  of  speaking,  and  the  tre- 
mulous flutter  of  her  lip  was  not  unnoticed  by 
Edward. 

"  If  there  was  any  thing  about  them  worth 
knowing,"  said  he,  '•'  you  would  not  be  igno- 
rant of  it ;  at  least  it  would  have  been  the  first 
time  I  should  have  found  you  ignorant  of  any 
thing  really  desirable  to  know."    • 

This  compliment,  much  as  she  esteemed 
Edward  Longroft,  could  not  draw  Catherine's 
eyes  from  the  words,  "  Lady  Charlotte  For- 
syth's waltz."  She  played  a  few  bars  of  it  again, 
but  she  struck  the  wrong  notes,  and  at  last  rose 
from  her  seat,  observing  that  it  must  be  grow- 
ing late.  When  one  person  in  a  party  makes 
this  discovery,  all  the  rest  wonder  they  did  not 
find  it  out  before ;  and  it  proving,  on  enquiry, 


156  A    DINNER    AT   THE    HALL. 

that  the  chaise  from  Nethercross,  had  beer* 
waiting  half-an-hour,  the  usual  ceremonies  of 
leave-taking  ensued. 

"  AVhat  a  pleasant  day  we  have  had  f"  sard 
Fanny  Brayswick,  as  soon  as  they  had  all  got 
into  the  chaise ;  "  how  very  agreeable  Miss 
I^ongeroft  and  her  cousin  are  !  I  really  never 
could  have  thought  Mr.  Edward  Longcroft  was 
so  handsome;  but,  somehow,  his  eyes! — how 
beautiful  they  are  } — they  grow  darker  and 
brighter  the  longer  they  look  at  one,  and  how 
very  attentive  he  is  !  I  am  sure  I  don't  think 
Le^s  proud  at  all ;  what  a  nice  couple  they  will 
make  !" 

"  They  will,  indeed,"  said  Catherine,  with  a 
sigh,  which  startled  Fanny  ;  who  began  to  be 
afraid  that  Miss  Longcroft's  happiness  with  her 
cousin  might  be  a  delicate  subject  to  touch 
upon :  but  Catherine  was,  in  fact,  thinking  of 
neither  of  them ;  nor,  when  the  subject  was 
changed,  did  she  speak  much  mare  to  the  pur- 


A    DINNER    AT   THE    HALL.  157 

dose  Oil  the  next  that  was  introduced ;  so  the 
whole  party,  at  last,  agreed  to  think  it  a  fine 
night,  and  a  beautiful  moon,  on  which  they 
were  to  gaze  in  silent  admiration,  till,  to  their 
great  surprise,  they  found  themselves  at  home, 
about  ten  minutes  sooner  than  they  expected. 


15S 


CHAPTER  IX. 


AN  EVENINCx  ALONE. 


Hamilton  had  not  often  listened  ivitli  so 
much  impatience  for  the  most  elegant  equipage 
in  London,  as  he  now  did,  for  the  post-chaise 
which  was  to  bring  the  little  party  from  Long- 
croft  Hall.  He  could  not  hide  this  entirely 
from  himself;  but  he  easily  accounted  for  it,  by 
considering  that  he  had  not  often  been  left  for 
so  many  hours  solely  to  his  own  contemplations : 


AN    EVENING    ALONE.  159 

—however,  as  he  had  no  remedy  except  employ- 
ment, he  began,  in  self-defence,  to  make  a 
rational  use  of  his  time,  by  translating  Claudian's 
beautiful  description  of  Proserpine's  seclusion 
in  the  Vale  of  Enna,  for  Catherine, vi^ho,  charmed 
with  his  account  of  it,  in  the  course  of  their 
classical  reading,  had  expressed  a  great  desire 
to  see  it  in  English  verse.  Accordingly  he  drew 
the  candles  nearer  to  him,  stirred  the  fire, 
opened  his  magnificent  writing  desk,  took  out 
quantum  suff  of  satin  paper,  walked  to  the  book- 
case for  Claudian,  not  forgetting  Ainsworth's 
Dictionary^  returned  to  his  chair,  sat  down,  and 
looked  around  the  room,  with  a  most  agreeable 
feeling  of  self-satisfaction — in  short,  it  was  the 
luxury  of  positive  occupation  that  was  so  de- 
lightful to  him,  and  one  of  which  a  man  of 
fashion  rarely  knows  the  enjoyment. 

The  tranquil  frame  of  his  mind  was  at  any 
rate  favourable  to  the  influence  of  the  Muses, 
and  with  a  more  charming  prototype  present  in 


160  AN    EVENING    ALONE. 

his  imagination,  than  perhaps  Clauclian  liimself 
ever  dreamt  of,,  he  began-^ 

"  In  these  fair  halls  sits  lovely  Proserpine, 
And  soothing  with  sweet  soncr  the  tedious  day, 
Plies  the  swift  loom,  expectan-t  of  the  hour 
When  Ceres  should  return — her  needle  paints 
The  birth  and  order  of  the  elements ; 
And  shows  by  what  true  laws  Nature  appeased, 
Pristine  confusion,  when  her  parent  hand 
Assigned  each  unfixed  principle  a  seat. 
Up  springs  each  subtler  essence,  while  below 
Matter  more  pond'rous  sinks ;    transparent  floats 
The  ether ;    ocean  swells, — Earth's  pictured  orb 
Hangs  in  the  firmament ;    rich  colors  grace 
The  various  web  ;    stars  glitter  bright  in  gold  ; 
Dark  purple  flows  the  sea ;    the  rocky  shores 
Sparkle  in  gems  ;    so  well  the  threads  deceive 
That  whilst  the  enchanted  eye  fancies  the  waves 
To  swell  and  ripple  on  the  moving  floods, 
The  ear,  deluded,  seems  to  C£^tch  the  sound 
Of  murmuring  waters — breaking  on  the  sands, 
And  sea-weeds  dashing  on  the  marble  rocks. 
Five  zones  she  forms :    one  the  rich  scarlet  woof 
Displays,  as  parched  by  fierce  and  burning  suns, 


AN    EVENING    ALONE.  161 

Barren  and  dry  ;    two  other?,  temperate 
And  habitable,  glow  with  softer  hues ; 
Joyless  and  cold  the  last,  with  sullen  tract 
Cover  each  pole — wrapt  in  perpetual  gloom. 
***** 
"  Nor  were  the  regions  undisplayed,  which  lie 
By  melancholy  Styx,  nor  omen  sad 
Was  wanting ;    sudden  tears  obscured  her  eyes, 
And  dimmed  the  moistened  colors  of  her  web  ! 
And  now,  with  undulating  line,  her  hand 
Began  to  trace  the  limits  of  the  deep, — 
When  the  rent  filaments  and  woof  reversed, 
Declare  the  presence  of  th'  ethereal  powers ; 
Straight  she  forsakes  the  half-unfinished  work. 
While  crimson  blushes  paint  her  beauteous  cheeks, 
Beaming  in  modesty ;    so  ivory  glows 
When  Lydian  artists  tinge  its  pearly  hues 
With  rich  Sidonian  dies.     Meanwhile,  the  Sun 
Dipped  in  the  western  wave, — and  dewy  eve 
Led  on  the  train  of  night,  whose  gentle  sway 
Shed  sweet  repose  upon  the  wearied  world." 

"  I  did  not  tliiiik  I  had  so  much  of  my  school- 
days learning  left,"  said  Hamilton  to  himself, 


162  AN    EVENIN(i    ALONE. 

as  he  paused  to  read  over  his  versification,  *^'  bu| 
this  rusticating  makes  one  obliged  to  look  into 
every  cranny  of  one's  pericranium,  to  see  what 
one  can  conjure  out  of  it,"  and  with  this  un-. 
conscious  eulogium  on  a  country  life,  he  drew 
the  sofa  nearer  to  the  fire^ and  throwing  himself 
on  it,  fell  into  a  sort  of  waking  dream,  in  which 
images  of  "  retirement  books,"  Croxford's,  and 
Almacks,  chased  each  other  in  succession,  and 
at  intervals  were  all  put  to  flight,  by  the  blasts 
of  a  dry  March  wind,  which,  sounding  in  the 
wide  chimney  exactly  like  a  carriage  driving 
along  the  rough  and  wooded  lane  which  led  up 
to  the  Rectory,  twice  gave  the  Colonel  the 
trouble  to  half  raise  himself  on  his  elbow,  to 
ascertain  the  matter  more  precisely. 

When,  however,  the  chaise  really  stopped  at 
the  gate,  he  thought  it  more  consonant  to  the 
manners  of  the  day  to  assume  an  air  of  frigid 
indifference,  rather  than  betray  any  thing  of 
more  interest;  accordingly,   he  slowly  turned 


AN    EVENING    ALONE.  163 

his  head  towards  the  door,  still  keeping  his 
recumbent  posture,  as  Mr.  Neville  opened  it. 

"Well,  my  good  Sir  !  and  'Ah,  Galatea,  the 
fugitive  Galatea!'"  he  languidly  exclaimed,  ex- 
tending his  hand  towards  her  ;  but  to  his  amaze- 
ment, it  was  not  even  seen,  much  less  accepted  : 
for  his  Galatea  as  he  called  her,  made  only  a 
slight  curtsey,  with  an  inarticulate  murmur  of 
enquiry  after  his  health,  and  in  the  course  of  a 
very  ^cw  minutes,  her  father  expressing  a  wish 
for  a  glass  of  toast  and  water,  she  left  the  room 
to  order  it;  and  instead  of  returning  with  it  her- 
self, sent  it  by  Margaret,  whom,  at  the  same 
time,  she  commissioned  to  say,  that  finding 
herself  fatigued,  she  hoped  to  be  excused  from 
reappearing  that  night. 

Hamilton  bit  his  lips,  and  crushing  the  Vale 
of  Enna  and  the  lovely  Proserpine  in  his  hand, 
consigned  them  in  an  instant  to  the  flames  ;  and 
as  soon  as  he  saw  his  evening's  labour  vanish 
into  "thin  air,"  wished  for  it  back  again;  to 


164  AN   EVENING   ALONE. 

effect  tilis,  however,  would  have  required  a  more 
subtle  chemical  process  than  any  that  he  was 
acquainted  with  ;  he  therefore  souglit  a  remedy 
for  his  vexation  more  easily  practicable,  by 
following  Catherine's  example,  and  walking  off 
to  bed :  soliloquizing  himself,  all  the  Avhile  he 
was  undressing,  with  "  I'm  growing  a  precious 
fool  !  staying  here  to  write  verses  for  the 
parson's  daughter,  and  then  burning  them,  in 
a  pet,  like  a  great  booby  school-boy,  because  her 
head  is  turned  by  going  to  dine  at  the  Squire's. 
I  suppose  the  heroic  Mr.  Edward  condescended 
to  squeeze  her  hand,  and  make  love  to  her.  I 
shall  not,  however,  brook  any  interference  of 
his,  with  my  arrangements  a  second  time,  I 
fancy  ;  though  it  would  be  rather  too  laughable 
to  leave  L.ondon  till  one  affair  blows  over,  and 
encounter  another  of  the  same  kind,  in  this  semi- 
civilized  corner  of  the  world." 

He  then  began  to  wonder  how  he  could  have 
staid  iu  it  so  long,  and  to  consider  that  by  pro- 


AN    EVENING   ALONE.  ]65 

longing  his  absence  from  town  he  should  stand 
a  great  chance  of  seeing  himself  supplanted  in 
the  circles  of  fashion,  by  some  newer  object; 
for  in  London,  every  season  has  its  Lion,  and 
the  butterfly  that  could  contrive  to  see  two 
summers,  would  not  be  a  greater  phenomenon 
in  the  eyes  of  the  naturalist,  than  the  man  who 
could  command  exclusive  attention,  for  two 
winters,  would  appear  to  the  polite  world,  in  the 
metropolis. 


166 


CHAPTER  X. 


A  DEPARTURE. 


*«  I  HAVE  taken  the  liberty,  my  dear  Sir," 
said  Hamilton,  the  next  morning  at  breakfast, 
"  to  send  for  a  chaise  to  your  door,  at  twelve 
o'clock." 

Catherine  heard  these  words  as  though  she 
heard  them  not,  for  a  mist  seemed  to  come  over 
her  eyes,  and  a  faintness  to  seize  her  very 
heart;    but  she  was  recaled   to  her  self-com- 


A    DEPARTURE.  167 

mand,  the  moment  after,  by  a  feeling  of  indig- 
nation at  tlie  abruptness  with  which  he  thus 
announced  his  intention  to  depart. 

*'  How  rude  my  fatlier  will  think  it,''  she 
said  to  herself,  and  imagined  that  the  glow 
wliich  she  felt  upon  her  clseek  was  raised  by 
her  resentment  of  the  disrespect  thus  shewn  to 
him;  but,  had  that  boon  its  real  cause,  it  would 
have  been,  nevertheless,  most  needlessly  called 
forth;  for  Mr.  Neville  quietly  replied— 

"  Very  well.  Sir,  very  right.  You  should 
get  out  as  much  as  you  can  ;  and  you  will  enjoy 
our  rides,  now  that  you  are  getting  better,  and 
the  weather  coming  in  mild." 

"  Rides  !  ray  dear  Sir. — No  :  it  is  a  journey, 
not  a  ride,  that  I  must  think  of;  you  forget  the 
unconscionable  visit  I  have  paid  you  already — 
a  visit  fit  for  an  antediluvian.  I  never  was  so 
long  in  any  place  before,  since  I  had  the  honor 
to  sit  under  your  wings   at  College. — No — T 


168  A    DEPARTURE. 

must  take  my  leave,  and  I  think  you  must  be 
very  glad  to  get  quit  of  me." 

"  No,  Hamilton,  you  know  better  than  that; 
and  besides,  we  have  shewn  you  nothing  of 
Craven  yet. — Bless  me  !  why  how  long  have 
you  been  ?  three  weeks,  or  a  month,  I  do  verily 
believe ;  and  you  have  neither  seen  Malham, 
Cove,  nor  Gordale  Scar,  nor  even  our  famous 
Ebbs  and  Flows,  though  it  is  quite  at  hand,  as 
one  may  say." 

"  My  dear,  good  Sir,  I  have  been  nearer  two 
months  than  either  three  weeks  or  a  month  ; 
and  in  all  that  time  I  have  never  wished  to  see 
any  thing  beyond  what  I  saw  every  day  at  your 
own  fireside." 

Catherine's  heart  swelled  at  the  tone  in  which 
these  words  were  pronounced;  but  she  durst  not 
look  up  to  ascertain  the  expression  wliicli  ac- 
companied them:  and  slie  envied  the  simple 
turn  of  her  father's  mind,  which  alwavs  led  him 


A    DEPARTURE*  *  169 

to  take  every  thing  in  its  most  literal  accepta- 
tion as  was  now  evident  in  its  reply. 

"  I  am  glad  of  it,  my  dear  Hamilton,  I  am 
glad  of  it !  I  wish,  with  all  my  heart,  you 
may  take  the  same  willingness  to  be  contented 
with  your  own  fireside  back  to  London  with, 
you:  for  you  may  depend  upon  it,  that  alone 
will  make  you  the  happiest  and  most  enviable 
man  there — you  know  what  Horace  says  — 

'  Licet  sub  paupere  tecto 


Reges  et  regum  vita  prsecurrere  amicos.' 

When  Mr.  Neville  once  got  on  a  classic 
ground  he  generally  set  off  on  an  exploring  ex- 
cursion which  led  him  far  from  his  starting 
point ;  but  at  this  moment  he  was  called  back 
to  it,  by  the  entrance  of  Rachel,  with  the  keys 
of  the  vestry. 

"  If  you  please,  Sir,  Peter's  brought  keys, 
and  says  what  time  would  you  please  to  have 
him  pull  in  bell,  for  old  John  Long's  funeral?" 

VOL.    I.  I 


170    •  A    DEPARTURE. 

"  Ah  !  bless  me  ! — yes,  poor  old  John  Long ! 
he  would  try  to  plough  against  a  hale  young 
fellow  his  master  had  put  over  his  head;  and 
he  had  had  water  on  his  chest  a  good  while,  and 
so,  poor  fellow,  he  hastened  his  end — but  as 
Horace  says — 

'  Omnes  eodem  cogimur.' 

Sure  enough,  however,  I  told  his  poor  widow  I 
would  call  on  her  this  morning  at  nine  o'clock, 
and  now  it  is  past  ten." 

So  up  the  Rector  got,  and  marched  out  of 
the  room^  leaving  his  guest  to  clap  C?esar  on 
the  head,  and  make  him  the  unconscious  medium 
of  conversation  with  his  mistress. 

"  Well,  old  boy !  will  you  go  to  London  with 
me?  How  you  would  be  annoyed  there,  old 
fellow,  among  the  carriages;  you  would  miss 
your  lawn,  and  your  green  lane,  and  this 
famous  hearth-rug.  You'll  soon  forget  me, 
won't  you,  old  boy  ?     The  absent  are  soon  for- 


A    DEPARTURE.  171 

gotten — aye,  that's  right — you  turn  your  eyes 
to  your  mistress,  to  ask  her  if  it  be  not  so." 

Whilst  he  thus  w6nt  on  in  the  strain  so  easy 
to  a  man  in  long  practised  liabits  of  assumed 
feeling,  so  trying  to  a  young  and  inexperienced 
lieart,  Catherine  remained  with  her  eyes  fixed 
on  her  work,  and  her  breast  filled  with  the 
most  painful  and  contradictory  emotions.  One 
moment  she  was  shocked  to  think  that  Hamil- 
ton could  have  so  far  felt  the  coldness  of  her 
behaviour  the  preceding  evening,  as  to  have 
determined  so  suddenly  on  leaving  the  house — 
the  next  she  was  angry  that  he  should  have 
resolution  to  do  it  so  immediately — and  this 
anger  was  just  then  the  best  feeling  that  could 
have  come  to  her  aid. 

"He  is,  after  all,"  thought  she,  "a  mere 
selfish  man  of  the  world;  he  has  staid  with  us 
till  he  is  tired,  and  then  he  takes  his  leave  with 
as  little  ceremony  as  he  came  among  us." 
I  2 


172  A  DEPARTURE. 

Still  her  heart  fluttered  when  he,  finding 
Caesar  only  a  poor  interpreter  of  what  he  wished 
her  to  understand,  drew  his  chair  nearer  to  her, 
and  twisting  the  cotton  with  which  she  was 
working  round  his  fingers  said — 

'•  Can  I  do  any  thing  for  you  in  town.  Miss 
Neville  ? — I  shall  be  there  in  about  a  fort- 
night." 

''  Miss  Neville  !"  thought  she,  for  the  appel- 
lation sounded  strangely  formal  in  her  ear,  after 
the  friendly  one  of  Catherine,  or  the  playful 
title  of  Galatea,  by  which  he  had  of  late  been 
accustomed  to  address  her.  She  was  so  far, 
however,  mistress  of  herself,  as  to  say  witli 
assumed  composure — 

"  You  are  not  then  going  there  immedi- 
ately ?" 

"  No,  I  promised  Halston  to  go  down  to  him 
in  Westmoreland,  first — fine  weather  for  the 
lakes — these  Scotch  mists  will  make  it  amaz- 


A   DEPARTURE.  173 

ingly  pleasant — I  fancy  he  will  not  find  me 
very  delectable  company  up  and  down  the 
mountains." 

"  At  any  rate  you  will  have  a  change  of 
scene,  and  I  dare  say  you  will  like  that  very 
well.  I  have  heard  you  say  change  is  always 
agreeable,  even  if  it  be  a  change  for  the 
worse." 

"  So  I  have  said,  and  so  I  used  to  think — 
but  I  have  not  given  any  proof  of  thinking  so 
lately,  have  I  Catherine  ?" 

The  tone  in  which  this  interrogation  was 
put,  shook  all  Catherine's  fortitude. 

''  Why  then,"  said  she,  "  have  you  resolved 
so  suddenly  to  leave  us — is  not  that  a  proof 
that  you  are  tired  of  staying  with  us?" 

"  It  may  be  a  proof  that  I  have  reason  to 
fear  I  have  staid  too  long." 

Catiierine  colored  deeply. 

"  It  was  too  surely  my  behaviour  last  night," 


174  A    DEPARTURE. 

thought  she,  "  and  it  was  indeed  rude  in  me, 
and  most  inhospitable,  to  shew  him  such  cold- 
ness, whilst  he  was  our  visitor." 

In  her  confusion  she  rose  to  leave  the  room. 

"  Is  there  any  thing  you  want  ?"  said  she, 
*'  Shall  I  put  your  books  together? — Can  Mar- 
garet do  any  thing  for  you  ?" 

"  Yes,  if  she'll  be  kind  soul  enough  to 
huddle  all  my  things  into  my  trunks — she'll 
save  me  half-an-hour's  labour  ;  and  just  now  I 
would  not  willingly  lose  a  moment  that  remains 
to  me." 

"  She  shall  do  it  directly." 

"  You  are  very  considerate,"  said  he,  re- 
proachfully, "  I  see  you  remember  Homer's 
definition  of  hospitality — 

'  Welcome  the  coming,  speed  the  parting  guest. ' " 

"No,"  said  Catherine,  "  I  could  not  welcome 
your  coming,   for  you  would  not  let  me  make 


A    DEPARTURE.  175 

any  overture  towards  doing  so;  and  now  I 
would  not  speed  your  parting,  if  I  had  any 
motive  to  urge,  sufficiently  powerful  to  tempt 
you  to  stay." 

*'  Do  not  say  too  mucb,  Catherine,  you  could- 
tempt  me  to  anything  you  really  wished; — 
shall  I  tell  you  what  would  tempt  me  to 
stay  ?" 

"  If  the  chaise  is  to  be  here  at  twelve,  you 
must  have  some  refreshment  before  you  go," 
said  Catherine,  and  she  ran  out  of  the  room  as 
if  to  order  it — but  the  moment  she  was  on  the 
other  side  of  the  door  her  fluttered  spirits 
sought  the  relief  of  a  burst  of  tears,  and  more 
than  half  of  the  little  time  that  remained  was 
passed  by  her  in  her  own  room,  trying  to  ob-^ 
tiin  sufficient  command  over  herself  to  make 
her  appearance  in  the  parlour  again,  with  an 
unruffled  demeanour. 

Hamilton  was  too  well  skilled   in   the   ex- 


176  A  DEPARTURE. 

pression  of  Catherine's  countenance  not  to  see 
in  it  all  the  workings  of  her  heart ;  and  the 
conviction  it  brought  home  to  his  vanity  was 
so  gratifying,  that  it  made  him  quite  suffi- 
cient amends  for  the  violence  he  had  committed 
against  his  own  inclination  in  summoning  reso- 
lution to  leave  her; — that  he  should  leave  her 
unhappy  was  no  drawback  to  the  triumph  of 
his  self-love. 

"  It  would  be  delightful  to  return  and  console 
her,  at  some  future  time,  provided  that  he 
should  continue  to  wish  to  do  so ;  if  not,  of 
course,  there  would  be  an  end  of  the  whole 
affair?"     Thus  reasoned  the  man  of  the  world. 

By  the  time  Mr.  Neville  returned,  the  chaise 
was  at  the  door ;  Hamilton  was  profuse  in  his 
acknowledgements  to  him  for  the  kindness  he 
had  received  under  his  roof — the  good  man's 
eyes  glistened. 

^'My  dear  boy,"  said  he  "you  have  made  us 


A    DEPARTURE.  177 

your  debtors, — you  have  enlivened  our  most 
dreary  season,  and  you  have  been  so  kind  to 
Catherine,  I  shall  not  easily  forget  your  atten- 
tions to  her — you  have  opened  a  new  world  to 
her, — you  have  given  her  thoughts  and  feelings 
she  will  be  all  the  wiser  for— she  will  read  with 
redoubled  industry  when  you  are  gone — you 
have  pointed  out  so  many  beauties  to  her,  and 
till  you  came  she  had  in  fact  nobody  among  her 
acquaintance  who  had  any  pursuit  or  taste  like 
her  own." 

Catherine  could  not  look  up  whilst  her  father 
spoke— every  moment  seemed  to  be  bringing 
her  nearer  to  her  doom — even  Hamilton  him- 
self was  affected  by  the  expression  of  feeling  in 
her  countenance,  and  when  he  turned  round  he 
saw  old  Rachel  wiping  away  a  tear  as  he  looked 
about  the  room  for  his  parcels^  and  even  the 
ruddy-cheeked  Margaret  covered  her  face  with 
l:er  apron ;  for  he  had  become  so  thoroughly 
domesticated,  that  he  had  often  run  into  the 
I  5 


178  A  DEPARTURE. 

neat  little  kitchen,  when  Catherine  was   busy 
with  her  pastry  and  jellies,  to  admire 

"  Her  household  movements  light  and  free, 
And  steps  of  virgin  liberty  ;" 

and  Margaret  thought  it  was  a  very  fine  thing 
to  see  so  handsome  a  gentleman,  and  a  Colonel 
too,  and  from  London,  so  free,  and  lively,  and 
asking  the  use  of  every  thing,  and  saying  such 
droll  things  to  her  young  mistress. 

"  The  country  is  the  place  after  all,"  thought 
Hamilton,  ^'  and  the  only  place  for  the  genuine 
feelings  of  theheart;  I  might  have  been  atLong's 
hotel,  half  a  century,  without  a  soul  caring  whe- 
ther I  was  alive  or  dead,  if  I  did  but  pay  ray 
bill ;"  and  with  this  reflection,  he  seized  Neville's 
hand,  shook  it  affectionately,  and  turning  to 
Catherine,  she  was  going  to  give  him  hers,  but 
he  was  not  to  be  so  contented  ;  he  pressed  his 
lips  upon  her  cheek,which  one  moment  glowed 
beneath  his  touch,  and  the  next  became  pale  as 


A    DEPARTURE.  179 

monumental  marble — he  uttered  a  few  words, 
they  reached  no  ear  but  hers;  and  then  sprung 
into  the  chaise,  from  which  he  distributed  his 
money  in  profusion,  not  only  to  all  who  had 
ever  rendered  him  any  assistance,  but  also  to 
the  gazing  urchins  who  had  gathered  round  the 
vehicle  to  witness  his  departure  :  and  in  a  few 
minutes  even  the  sound  of  the  wheels  was  lost 
in  the  turnings  of  the  lane  where  he  had  so  often 
lingered  with  Catherine,  to  conclude  some  ar- 
gument, or  avert  some  playful  change  which  he 
used  to  accuse  her  of  always  bringing  against 
him,  just  before  they  reached  home,  when  it  was 
too  late  for  him  to  retort  it  or  to  defend  himself. 


im 


CHAPTER  XL 


QUE  FAIRE  POUR  S'AMUSER  ? 


Poor  Catherine  again  felt,  and  more  for- 
cibly than  she  had  ever  done  before,  that  it  is 
on  those  who  are  left  the  anguish  of  separation 
falls  most  acutely.  Her  father,  after  making  a 
final  eulogium  on  his  deportment,  whilst  he 
had  been  with  them,  seemed  to  forget  that 
Hamilton  continued  in  existence,  and  busied 
himself,  as  usual,  in  his  parochial  duties,  his 


gUE    FAIRE    POUR    s'aMUSER.  181 

classics,  and  his  natural  history.  Catherine 
was  amazed  at  his  self-possession; — yet  slie 
would  not  have  had  it  if  she  might :  but  when 
she  sate  down  to  her  work  after  dinner,  she  was 
dismayed  at  the  stillness,  almost  the  vacuity, 
that  seemed  to  reign  around.  She  sate  in  the 
same  window-seat,  where  she  had  sat  the  day 
after  Hamilton's  arrival  —her  canary  birds  made 
the  same  indefatigable  rustling — Caesar  lay  on 
the  same  centre  spot  on  the  hearth-rug — every 
thing  looked  as  exactly  the  same  as  if  the  inter- 
vening weeks  had  been  only  the  dream  of  a 
moment— but  how  altered  were  her  feelings. — 
Still  it  was  ''  delightful  misery  !"  it  was 
better,  far  better,  to  be  even  painfully  in- 
terested in  the  welfare  of  one  superior  and 
intelligent  being,  than  to  find  all  society  the 
same  insipid  blank.  O  yes !  she  was  sure 
she  should  be  quite  happy  in  thinking  of 
Hamilton — and  hearing  of  him  sometimes — 
and  she  was  not  at  all  sorry  that  she  had  so 


18*2  QUE    FAIRE    POUR   s'aMUSER. 

few  acquaintance, — for  she  suddenly  found  out 
tliat  it  was  much  more  agreeable  to  be  quite 
alone  than  to  associate  with  those  from  whom 
she  could  learn  nothing.  —  It  was  not,  in  fact^ 
that  day  that  Catherine  fully  felt  herself  alone  : 
the  flutter  of  spirits  into  which  Hamilton's  de- 
parture had  thrown  her,  was  of  itself  an  occu- 
pation which  still  seemed  to  associate  him  with 
her.  The  feeling  he  had  evinced  at  the  mo- 
ment of  leaving  her,  she  recalled  and  dwelt 
upon,  until  it  seemed  to  console  her  for  having 
parted  with  him ;  her  cheek  still  glowed  with 
the  only  kiss  he  had  ever  ventured  to  impress 
upon  it,  the  only  kiss  to  which  her  heart  had 
ever  thrilled,  and  which  she  held  sacred,  as  the 
purest  pledge,  at  such  a  moment,  of  tender 
friendship :  her  ears  still  vibrated  with  the 
tones  of  his  farewell,  as  he  had  thrown  his 
arms  around  her,  and  still  slie  felt  the  melting 
fondness  of  that  momentary  embrace,— a  hun- 
dred times  she  repeated  his  parting  words— yet 


QUE    FAIllE    POUR    s'aMUSER.  183 

what  were  they? — an  inarticulate  murmur,  yet 
uttered  with  all  the  fervour  of  a  hlessing, — it 
was  the  sincerity  of  it  that  gave  it  such  a 
charm  to  Catherine ;  and  sincerely,  indeed,  was 
the  benediction  responded,  whilst  she  again  and 
again  found  it  on  her  lips — and  then  she  de- 
liorhted  herself  with  tlie  tliousrht  that  he  would 
write — he  must  write — he  could  not  be  so  un- 
polite,  so  ungrateful  .':s  not  to  write  to  her 
father, — and  then  his  letter  must  he  answered  ; 
— perhaps  she  should  liave  to  answer  it  !  and 
that  perhaps  was  enough  to  give  employment 
to  her  imagination  for  all  the  rest  of  the  after- 
noon. She  thought  of  every  thing  she  could 
say,  every  thing  she  ought  to  say,  every  thing 
she  would  like  to  say,  every  thing  she  might 
say ;  and  again  her  heart  melted  over  all  the  kind 
expressions  of  regret  for  his  departure,  and 
anxiety  for  his  health,  which  she  silently  in- 
dulged herself  in  framing;  though  she  would 
not  for  the  world  have  ventured  to   put  any  of 


184  QUE    FAIRE    POUR    S*AiMUSER. 

them  in  a  visible  form,  by  entrusting  them  upon 
paper. 

It  was  not  until  the  next  morning,  on  waking, 
that  Catherine  became  sensible  of  all  the  differ- 
ence in  her  feelings  and  situation  ;  naturally- 
active,  she  was  an  early  riser,  both  from  prin- 
ciple and  habit ;  and  between  her  own  studies 
and  pursuits,  and  the  family  cares  which  she 
took  upon  herself,  in  order  to  minister  more 
effectually  to  her  father's  comfort,  and  do  all 
the  good  in  her  power,  she  had  never  known 
what  it  was  to  think  tise  day  long ;  or  to  be  in 
doubt  how  to  amuse  or  occupy  herself,  for  a 
single  hour  ;  but  for  the  last  two  months,  her 
mind  had  been  so  unavoidably  turned  to  Hamil- 
ton, to  thinking  of  procuring  what  might  be 
agreeable  to  him,  or  beneficial  for  liim,  by  what 
means  to  render  liis  stay  pleasant  to  him,  and 
how  to  derive  advantage  herself  from  his  society, 
that  it  was  no  wonder,  if  now  tliat  he  was  gone, 
she,  at  first,  seemed  to  have  neither,  induce- 


QUE    FAIRE    POUR    S'aMUSER.  185 

mentj  nor  end,  in  lier  usual  employments. 
Glad  of  any  interruption  to  her  own  reflections, 
slie  was  pleased  to  see  Fanny  Brayswick  coming 
up  the  lawn,  with  her  work-bag  on  her  arm,  as 
a  sign  that  she  meant  to  pass  what  the  ladies 
call  "a  long  day,"  with  her;  and  Fanny  was 
precisely  the  kind  of  companion  she  just  then 
wanted ;  affectionate,  unassuming,  and  devoted 
to  her — Louisa  Longcroft  might,  perhaps,  by  her 
superior  understanding,  have  withdrawn  her 
more  forcibly  from  the  indulgence  of  her  own 
thoughts ;  but  there  would  not  have  been  that 
sympatliy  between  tht'm ;  for  Catherine  was 
obliged  to  acknowledge  to  herself  that  Hamil- 
ton was  evidently  no  favourite,  precisely  in  the 
quarter  where  she  most  wished  him  to  be  one. 

"  Well  Catherine,  my  love,"  said  Fanny, 
as  soon  as  she  entered,  "  I  have  come  on  pur- 
pose to  see  you  ;  I  thought  you  would  feel  so 
dull,  just  at  first,  after  Colonel  Hamilton  left 
you." 


186  OUE    FAIRE    POUR    8*AMUSER. 

"  What,  you  heard  lie  was  gone  then  ?" 

"Oh,  yes;  Mally  Garbutt  told  us  that  he 
went,  yesterday,  and  had  ordered  his  letters  to 
be  sent  after  him  to  the  Post-office,  at  Amble- 
side." 

"At  Ambleside?"  Catlierine  repeated  in  a 
tone  of  surprise,  which  was  caught  by  Fanny, 
who  re-echoed  it,  e.^claiuiing:  — 

"  Yes,  Ambleside  !  why,  don't  you  know  his 
direction  ?" 

"  No — I  know  he's  gone  into  Westmoreland, 
but  he  did  not  mention  the  exact  place ;  and  of 
course  I  did  not  ask  hiui." 

"  What,  then,  you  do  not  intend  to  corres- 
pond ?" 

"Correspond  !  no,  indeed,  why  should  we?" 
said  Catherine,  scarcely  able  to  check  the  tear 
which  was  ready  to  start  into  her  eye,  as  she 
repeated  to  herself,  why  should  we?  "  He  can 
do  very  well  without  hearing  any  thing  more 
about  us." 


QUE    FA  I  RE    POUR    s'aMUSER.  187 

"Then  lie  has  not  declared  himself?"  said 
Fanny,  hesitatingly,  for  she  was  equally  afraid 
of  appearing  indelicately  curious,  or  of  being 
thouglit  to  remain  silent,  through  indifference  to 
her  friend,  on  a  suhject  which,  judging  by  her 
own  feelings,  when  dear  delightful  Mr.  Pugh 
was  the  theme,  she  thought  must  be  more 
interesting  to  lier  than  any  other  she  could  in- 
troduce. 

'* Declared  himself!"  said  Catherine,  almost 
angrily,  "  what  do  you  mean,  Fanny  ?" 

"  Mean  ?  w])y  I  mean,  that  is,  you  know 
wliat  I  mean — I  mean  declared  his  sentiments." 

"  On  what  subject  ?" 

"  Nay,  now,  Catherine,  you  must  know  very 
well  what  I  mean — but  you  look  vexed,  and 
you  may  be  sure  I  don't  want  to  know  any  thing 
more  than  you  like  to  tell  me;  but  I  don't  know 
why  you  sh.ould  look  angry,  and  seem  not  to 
understand  what  I  mean." 

Catherine's  tears  could  be  no  longer  restrained, 


188  QUE    FAIRE    POUR    s'aMUSEK. 

for  she  felt  herself  every  way  to  blame ;  Fanny's 
eyes  glistened  in  sympathy,  and  her  affectionate 
heart,  at  once,  entered  into  all  Catherine's  un- 
easiness, and  enabled  her  to  soothe  it  with  a 
tender  condolence,  which  is  far  more  effectual 
than  argument,  with  the  unhappy. 

"But  why  should  you  have  taken  such  a 
fancy  into  your  head,"  said  Catherine,  when 
she  had  a  little  recovered  herself,  "as  that 
Colonel  Hamilton  was  in  love  with  me  ?" — ^half 
lioping  to  hear  some  reason  given,  which  might 
be  convincinp'  to  herself. — "  You  must  have 
forgotten  how  much  older  he  is  than  I  am,  and 
how  different  his  rank  in  life,  and  his  connec- 
tions are." 

"  Oh  !  but  that's  nothing.  You  know  Mr. 
Reevesly,of  Reevcsly  Park,  was  a  deal  older  than 
Eliza  Thornton,  and  a  great  deal  higher,  every 
way,  and  yet  he  married  her — and  I'm  sure 
Colonel  Hamilton  used  to  pay  you  just  the  same 
sort  of  attention,   and  look  at  you  just  in  the 


OUE    FAIRE    POUR    S*AMUSER.  189 

same  manner — and  wlienever  you  went  out  oF 
the  room  he  used  to  be  dull  in  a  minute,  and 
seemed  to  think  it  such  an  age  till  you  came 
back  again ;  he  scarcely  ever  spoke  a  word  to 
me  all  the  time  you  were  away." 

To  arguments  like  these,  which  Fanny  would 
have  continued  to  suggest  with  unabated  flu- 
ency, Catherine  could  have  listened 

"  From  eve  till  morn,  fi-om  morn  till  dewy  eve, 
A  summer's  day — " 

but  she  was  resolved  not  to  indulge  herself  in 
so  dangerous  a  sophistry :  thinking  it  wiser  to 
"  assume  a  virtue,"  though  she  had  it  not,  she 
made  a  grand  effort  to  speak  with  firmness. 

"  It  is  not  at  all  surprising,  you  know, 
Fanny,"  said  she,  ''  that  I  should  miss  Colonel 
Hamilton,  after  his  having  been  with  us  so 
long;  and  confined  so  much  to  the  house  as  he 
was  by  his  health,  he  seemed  almost  more  my 
companion  than   my  father's ;  but  I  have  not 


190  OUE    FAIRE    POUR    s'aMUSER. 

the  folly  to  think  that  he  can  liave  found  tlie 
same  attractions  in  my  company,  that  I  did  in 
his;  and  of  course,  I  look  upon  him  as  an  ac- 
quaintance, or  rather  friend,  whom  I  shall  al- 
ways think  of  with  pleasure,  and  be  very  glad 
if  we  ever  meet  again — but  it  is  just  as  probable 
that  we  never  may." 

"  Well,"  said  Fanny,  "  I'm  glad  your  mind 
is  so  easy  abcut  the  matter — to  say  the  truth, 
my  dear  Catherine,  I'm  every  way  glad  of  it, 
for  Colonel  Hamilton  is  not,  after  all,  the  man 
1  should  like  to  see  you  married  to." 

"  And  why  not?  What  objection  can  there 
be  to  him?"  asked  Catherine,  with  a  quickness 
not  quite  consistent  with  her  protestations  of 
indifference  the  moment  before. 

"  Oh,  I  don't  know— you  know  I  don't  know 
much  of  him — but  I  think,  somehow,  he  is  un- 
equal in  his  temper.  Sometimes  he's  so  polite 
and  agreeable,  and  says  such  clever  things, 
without  the  least  study;  and  at  other  times  he 


QUE    FAIRE    POUR    s'aMUSER.  191 

won't  speak  a  word,  and  looks  as  if  he  coul  I 
eat  any  body  up;  and  Mr.  Edward  Longcroft's 
groom  told  our  James,  that  he  fought  a  duel  in 
London,  and  left  the  gentleman,  it  was  thought, 
dead  on  the  ground,  and  that  he  had  to  fly  for 
his  life — isn't  it  a  horrible  thouglit  ! — but  I'm 
sorry  I  told  you,  for  it  has  turned  you  quite 
pale." 

"  Horrible  indeed  !"  said  Catherine,  faintly, 
for  she  was  quite  overpowered  by  contending 
feelings.  After  a  few  minutes,  however,  she 
began  to  reflect  that  this  information  was  no- 
thing more  than  what  she  had  already  conjec- 
tured, allowing,  perhaps,  for  the  exaggerations 
which  the  account  of  any  thing  unfavorable  to 
a  person's  character  always  collects,  as  it  is 
circulated  from  one  to  another. 

Fanny,  however,  saw  enough  in  Catherine's 
countenance  to  convince  her,  that  it  would  be 
better  to  chuse  any  other  subject  than  Colonel 
Hamilton's  qualities,  either  good  or  bad ;  and 


192  QUE    FAIRE    POUR    s'aMUSER. 

she  was  soon  enabled,  by  that  kmd  of  good 
sense  which  is  always  the  companion  of  a  good 
disposition,  to  turn  the  conversation  into  other 
channels,  which,  if  they  did  not  afford  much 
interest,  at  least  awakened  no  uneasiness. 

Catherine  had  another  motive  for  liking 
Fanny's  company,  at  this  juncture,  besides  her 
own  partiality  for  her  ;  she  was  a  great  favourite 
with  the  Rector,  and  Catherine  was  in  hopes 
that  the  innocent  vivacity  and  good  humour 
which  recommended  her  to  him,  would  like- 
wise prevent  him  from  remarking  the  abstrac- 
tion and  restlessness,  she  was  but  too  conscious 
of,  in  herself;  and  so  it  did  for  that  day,  but 
the  next,  all  was  to  begin  over  again. — She  still 
felt  as  unequal  as  ever  to  exerting  her  former 
cheerfulness  :  fresh  means  of  hiding  its  absence 
were  to  be  devised,  and  she  could  only  have  re- 
course to  a  dozen  shirts,  which,  under  pretence 
of  having  been  for  a  long  time  shamefully  idle, 
she  now  attacked  with  as  much  assiduity  as  if 


QUE    FATRE    POUR    s'aMUSER.  193 

each  day^s  subsistence  depended  upon  the  quota 
of  needle- work  she  could  manage  to  get  through 
in  the  course  of  it.  Her  father  never  having  a 
thought,  himself,  which  he  wished  to  conceal, 
and  always  understanding  the  thoughts  of 
others  literally,  by  the  expressions  in  which 
t4iey  might  chuse  to  exhibit  them,  beheld  no- 
thing more  in  this  fit  of  industry  than  the 
active  exertion  which  he  had  always  seen  his 
daughter  exhibit,  whenever  it  seemed  requisite, 
either  in  large  or  small  matters.  Nevertheless, 
it  did  strike  him,  one  day,  that  she  sate  too 
close  to  her  work,  for  she  scarcely  tasted  any 
thing  at  dinner ;  and  when  he  looked  up  in 
surprise,  at  her  sending  her  plate  away  almost 
as  soon  as  he  had  helped  her,  he  saw  that  she 
looked  pale  and  languid. 

"  Why,  my  dear,"  said  he,  **  you  must  not 
go  on  in  this  way.  When  Colonel  Hamilton 
was  here  you  took  a  long  walk  every  day,  and 

VOL,    I.  K 


194  QUE    FAIRE    POUR    s'aMUSER. 

got  a  good  appetite,  and  looked  as  rosy  as  a 
milk-maid;  and  then,  in  the  evening,  if  you 
chose  to  work  a  little,  he  amused  you  with 
reading,  and  you  had  always  some  little  joke 
going  on ;  but  now,  you  see,  you  neither 
walk,  nor  read,  nor  play,  nor  eat,  nor  do  any 
thing,  but  brandish  your  dagger  of  Lilliput. — 
I  won*t  have  you  work  in  that  manner;  I 
would  sooner  go  without  a  shirt  to  my  back, 
as  thousands  of  my  brethren  have  done  before 
me." 

Catherine  coloured  up  to  the  eyes ;  but  per- 
sisted in  it  that  she  liked  better  to  work,  just 
then,  than  do  any  thing  else. 

"  Men  hate  to  see  work  going  on,"  said  she, 
forcing  a  smile,  "  they  envy  us  the  calm 
amusement  of  it;  you  know  I  used  to  tell  the 
Colonel  so,  when  he  would  tcaze  me  with 
catching  my  thread  with  the  scissors,  evciy 
time  I  drew  it  out,  and  telling  me  he  would  be 
my  Atrojws" 


OUE    FAIRE    POUR    s'aMUSER.  195 

**  Ah,  yes,  Atropos — a  very  appropriate  al- 
lusion— 

*  But  the  fair  guerdon  when  we  hope  to  find, 
Comes  the  blind  fur}',  with  the  abhorred  shears, 
And  slits  the  thin-spun  life. '  "  „ 


K   2 


196 


CHAPTER  Xir. 


COMING  IN  OF  THE  POST. 


A  WEEK  had  elapsed  in  this  state  of  mental 
languor  and  inquietude,  when,  one  morningj 
the  sound  of  pattens  announced  the  arrival  of 
the  post ;  nor  let  the  gentle  reader  smile  at  our 
blunder,  as  he  may  conceive  it  to  be,  for  the 
village  of  Nethercross,  not  being  in  the  habit 
of  receiving  dispatches  from  Governmentj  and 
the  whole  number  of  letters  directed  to  it  in  a 


COMING  IN   OF  THE   POST.  197 

year,  not  being  quite  sufficient  to  defray  the 
expence  of  bringing  them,  the  mail,  if  so  it 
might  be  called,  was  entrusted  to  the  care  of  a 
female,  who,  for  the  sum  of  three  shillings  and 
sixpence  per  week,  walked  two  miles  every  day, 
in  all  weathers,  to  meet  the  coach  which 
brought  it,  at  the  nearest  point  of  the  road  to 
Nethercross. 

Mally  Garbutt,  for  that  was  the  name  of  the 
post-woman,  like  many  other  persons  in  official 
capacities,  consoled  herself  for  the  smallness  of 
her  salary,  by  the  importance  which  her  em- 
ployment gave  her  among  her  neighbours — not 
like  Cowper's  Post-boy,  who 

"  Careless  what  he  brings,  his  one  concern 
Is  to  conduct  it  to  the  destined  inn." 

"  To  him  indifferent  whether  grief  or  joy,— . 
Births,  deaths,  or  marriages ;" 

She  had  an  intuitive  sagacity  in  guessing  of 
every  letter  that  came  between  her  finger  and 


198  COMING    IN    OF    THE    POST. 

thumb,  whether  it  was  from  the  son  of  aged 
parents,  whom  he  chiefly  supported  out  of  his 
wages,  or  from  the  sweetheart  of  a  young 
damsel,  who  was  impatiently  waiting  for  him 
to  see  how  business  might  answer  in  the  neigh- 
bouring town,  ere  he  led  her  to  the  church  ;  or 
from  whatsoever  other  branches  of  the  families 
in  Nethercross,  all  whose  concerns  she  knew ; 
and  as  she  generally  gleaned  considerable  infor- 
mation in  the  domestic  politics,  at  every  door 
where  she  had  to  stop,  she  was  always  hailed 
with  pleasure,  not  only  for  the  written  tidings 
of  which  she  might  be  the  bearer,  but  also  for 
the  abundance  of  news  she  was  always  so  kind 
as  to  impart,  gratis,  by  word  of  mouth ; — she 
was,  moreover,  a  pensioner  of  Catherine's,  to 
whom  she  had  recommended  herself  by  her 
active  and  unrepining  spirit,  and  she  was 
always  glad  to  have  a  letter  for  the  Rectory, 
as  she  was  sure  of  being  desired  to  keep 
every  little  overplus  from  the  postage  for  herself. 


COMING    IN    OF    THE    POST.  199 

Abundantly,  tliereforc,  did  she  rejoice  in  the 
long  stay  of  Hamilton  with  the  Rector,  as  he 
was  continually  having  letters,  or  papers,  or 
parcels,  by  the  coach,  and  used  to  take  great 
notice  of  Mally ;  puzzling  her  brains  by  calling 
her  his  Mercury,  and  telling  her  it  was  not  the 
first  time  she  had  worn  the  habit  of  an  old 
woman,  by  way  of  disguise. 

"  Nothing  for  you,  to-day,"  said  she,  laugh- 
ingly, to  iSIargaret,  who  opened  the  door  to  her, 
and  whose  sweetheart  had  been  compelled  to 
leave  her  by  the  same  chance  that  took  John 
Pierson  from  his  wife, — "  never  mind,  he'll 
neither  write  nor  send,  but  come — and  so  your 
betters  must  be  served  before  you — there's  a 
handsome  letter  !  see  what  fine  large  writing, 
and  a  seal,  merciful  me  !  with  split  crows  and 
wild  cats  upon  it ;  and  big  enough  to  take  six- 
pen'orth  of  wax  at  a  time." 

Catherine  heard  this  curious  description,  and 
was  certain  it  could  only  apply  to  a  letter  from 


200  COMING   IN    OF   THE    POST. 

Hamilton ;  he  bad  then  at  last  found  time  to 
treat  her  father  with  the  attention  due  to  him, 
and  she  ran  to  the  door  herself,  saying,  "  Well 
Mally,  how  are  you  to  day? — So  you've  brought 
a  letter  for  my  father  ?" 

"  No  marry  hav'nt  I,  Miss — but  I've  brought 
one  for  your  father's  daughter,"  and  in  laugh- 
ing at  her  own  wit,  she  remarked  not  the  crim- 
son glow  which  overspread  Catlierine's  features, 
when  she  saw  the  letter  really  addressed  to  her- 
self—she instantly  put  it  in  her  pocket,  and 
giving  Mally  Garbutt  double  the  amount  of  the 
postage,  returned  to  the  parlour ;  but  not  feel- 
ing sufficiently  secure  from  interruption  there, 
she  flew  up  stairs,  to  her  own  room,  and  lock- 
ing the  door,  drew  forth  the  letter  in  an  in- 
describable flutter  of  spirits,  and  pressed  it  to 
her  lips,  whilst  tears  started  into  her  eyes  ;  and 
the  next  moment  she  smiled  at  the  excess  of  her 
pwft  feeling. — "  But  it  is  so  delightful !"  she 
fii^^id  to  herself,  *'  to  hear  from  a  friend  !" 


COMING    IN    OF   THE    POST.  201 

At  that  moment  she  thought  not  of  any  thing 
but  what  Hamilton  had  been  to  her — the  duel, 
his  variable  temper,  the  selfishness  be  too  often 
exhibited,  the  manner  in  which  he  had  left  her — 
all  the  little  disagreeables,  towards  which  she 
had  tried  to  turn  her  sole  attention,  when 
she  wished  to  teach  herself  to  think  of  him 
with  indifference,  were  forgotten  in  the  delight- 
ful certainty,  that  she  held  in  her  hand  a  letter 
from  himself, — on  which  his  hand  had  leaned 
— on  which  he  had  breathed  his  thoughts — 
on  which  his  eyes  had  dwelt,  as  hers  did 
then  ;  and  again  she  pressed  the  senseless  paper 
to  her  lips.  At  length  she  opened  it — and 
first  glanced  her  eyes  over  the  whole  at  ance. 
— •'  Oh,  surely  there  is  a  physiognomy,  a 
countenance  in  a  letter,"  thought  she,  "  how 
pretty  the  lines  look — the  very  writing  is 
graceful ;"  then  catching  sight  of  the  words, 
"  loveliest  of  friends,"  and  "  fruitless  regret," 
and  '*  delightful  hopes,"  she,  miser-like,  refused 
K  5 


202  COMING    IN    OF    THE    POST. 

tierself  the  pleasure  of  reading  immediately  the 
sentences  which  contained  them,  but  sought  to 
prolong  it,  by  slowly  dwelling  on  every  line, 
from  the  first.. 

"  I  owe  your  father  many  thanks,  dear 
Catherine  !  for  the  boundless  hospitality  shewn 
me  during  my  happy  sojourn  beneath  his  roof; 
and  I  trust  he  will  permit  me  to  make  the  ac- 
knowledgment of  my  obligation  through  the 
medium  of  her  to  whom  I  am  scarcely  less  in- 
debted— the  most  affectionate  of  daughters  and 
the  loveliest  of  friends.  Tell  him  too,  dear 
Catherine !  that  now  I  am  separated  from  him 
I  find  the  truth  of  all  his  wise  aphorisms — 
that 

'  Man  never  is  but  always  to  be  blest.  ^ 

tliat,  in  fact,  the  present  is  a  nothing,  a  mere 
fleeting  shadow,  gone  in  the  instant  that  we  try 
to  grasp  it;  and  that  all  we  can  call  our  own  is 
regret,  fruitless  regrets  for  the  past,  and  vision- 


COMING    IN    OF    THE    POST.  203 

ary    anticipations    of   the   future,    which    may 
never  arrive  to  us. 

"  When  I  think  of  Nethercross,  and  its  in- 
habitants, I  find  myself  in  the  condition  of 
Shenstone's  Swain,  and  say  with  him — 

"  I  prized  every  hour  that  went  by, 
Above  all  that  had  pass'd  me  before, 

But  now  they  are  ^one,  with  a  sigh 
I  lament  that  I  prized  them  no  more/ 

«'  But  alas  !  here  the  comparison  between  my- 
self and  Mr.  Damon  ceases — I  may  indeed  say, 

'  I  gazed  as  I  slowly  withdrew. 

My  path  I  could  scarcely  discern  j* 

but  I  cannot  add> 

*  So  sweetly  she  bade  me  adieu, 
I  thought  that  she  bade  me  return.  * 

Ah  !  Catherine  ! — but  I  will  not  reproach  you — 
a  look  from  you  sent  me  away — a  word  would 
bring  me  back  again.  Halston  finds  me  mise- 
rable company  ;  fortunately  he  can  talk  all  day 


204  COMING   IN    OF   THE   POST. 

to  his  dogs,  and  in  the  evening,  we  read  tlie 
classics;  but  it  is  not  as  when  I  read  the 
Argonavtics,  and  Euripides  with  you — surely 
the  translations  have  graces  tliat  belong  not  to 
the  original—at  least  the  images  and  descripr 
tions  which  then  charmed  me,  in  every  page, 
now  appear  wonderfully  forced,  and  cold ;  and 
Halston  mouths  them  out,  just  in  the  same 
tones  that  he  would  use  to  stop  his  horse  in  a 
gallop*  Perhaps,  however,  the  fault  i&  in  my- 
self; for  even  the  beauties  of  this  far-famed 
country,  appear  to  me  to  be  vastly  over-rated — 
I  know  what  you  will  say,  that  I  am  no  lover  of 
nature  ;  but  I  cry  you  mercy — I  am  a  lover  of 
nature  in  Craven,  if  not  in  Westmoreland — 1  ad- 
mire a  tarn^  though  I  do  not  care  about  a  lake ; 
I  like  a  scaur  better  than  a  rock;  and  I  had 
rather  see  *  Pennygent,  and  Pendle  Hill,  and 
little  Ingleborough,'  than 

*  the  heights  of  Helvellyn,  and  Catchedicham  ;' 


COMING   IN    OF   THE    POST.  206 

SO  you  see  I  am  compelled  to  acknowledge 
myself  a  Craven  Knight  altogether. — And 
will  you  take  me  into  your  service  then, 
Catherine  ? — take  me  as  I  am — with  all  my 
imperfections  on  my  head  ? — Ah  !  how  I 
wish  I  could  see  the  expression  of  counte- 
nance with  which  you  will  read  this  request  ! 
— will  wonder  at  the  impertinence  of  him  who 
makes  it,  be  chased  by  pity  for  his  discom- 
fiture, at  the  negative  your  scorn  will  imme- 
diately put  upon  it !  Yet  my  Galatea^  my 
guardian-goddess,  there  are  times  when  I  in- 
dulge the  most  delightful  hope&that  my  welfare, 
and  well-doing  are  not  matters  of  indifference 
to  you.  Both  are  in  your  hand — I  resign  my- 
self, my  character,  my  fame,  my  happiness,  to 
your  guidance — I  know  your  father  used  to  tell 
you  that  he  often  found  me  a  rebellious  pupil — 
but,  trust  me,  his  daughter  should  have  no 
reason  to  complain  of  my  want  of  docility. 
Halston  has  just  come  in,  booted  and  spurred, 


206  COMING    IN    OF    THE    POST. 

to  claim  my  promise  of  riding  on  the  margin  of 
Winandermere — I  shall  quote  Wordsworth  out 
of  compliment  to  you  ;  that  is  to  say,  if  I  shall 
be  able  to  recollect  a  line  he  has  ever  written  ; 
and  Halston  will  shout  to  the  echoes,  and 
wonder  how  deep  the  water  is^  and  we  shall 
both  declare  we  see  the  trout  at  the  bottom,  and 
there  will  be  an  end  of  our  conversation.  He 
thinks  I  am  writing  to  my  banker,  and  expresses 
much  concern  to  find  so  many  words  necessary 
to  persuade  him  to  accommodate  me. — He  cer- 
tainly is  not  quite  out  in  his  conjecture — I  write 
to  those  who  have  my  greatest  treasure  in  their 
keeping — but  I  wish  only  for  fair  bills  of  ex- 
change— 'Catherine,  dear  Catherine,  answer  me 
this  letter! — We  will  have  a  regular  corres- 
pondence, sentimental  and  literary,  and  stand 
forth  another  "  Henry  and  Frances,"  to  the  ad- 
miring world.  I  trust  your  father  will  sanction 
the  laudable  undertaking.  Give  him  my  warm 
remembrances,  and  condescend  to  look  upon 


COMING    IN    OF    THE    POST.  207 

me,  not  as  your  PolyphemCj  certainly,  nor  as 
your  Acis,  for  I  have  no  desire  to 

'  glide  a  crystal  flood,' 

except  as  your  image  miglit  then  be  outwardly, 
instead  of  inwardly,  impressed  upon  my  bosom, 
but  as  one  who,  whilst  tliat  bosom  can  retain  a 
thought,  must  feel  himself, 

<'  Your  devoted  servant, 

"Arthur  Hamilton." 


Catherine  read  and  re-read  this  letter ;  un- 
able to  define  whether  she  was  pleased  with  it 
or  not.  It  was  Hamilton's  own  style,  the  same 
mixture  of  playfulness  and  serious  feeling, 
which  had  often  lent  equal  piquancy  and  inte- 
rest to  his  conversations  with  her.  But  she 
felt  that  now,  when  ^:hey  were  separated,  raillery 
and  jest  were  far  ijom  being  so  agreeable  as 
when    they  could    be  instantly  exchanged  for 


208  COMING:  IN    OF    THE   POST. 

more  flattering  expressions  of  indi vicinal  re- 
gard. 

"  If  he  thought  of  me  really  with  the  regret 
he  pretends,"  said  she  to  herself,  "  lie  could 
nat  write  with  so  much  vivacity  ;  yet  if  he  did 
not  wish  to  keep  up  a  friendly  intercourse  he 
would  not  have  written  to  me  at  all — for  it  was 
no  way  necessary;  a  few  lines  to  my  father 
would  have  done  just  as  well,  as  far  as  mere 
civility  was  concerned,  and  would  not  have 
subjected  him  to  keeping  up  a  correspondence ; 
which,  indeed,  I  know  he  would  not  do,  with 
any  creature  on  earth,  if  he  did  not  like  it — he 
is  too  idle.'^ 

So  that,  upon  the  whole,  she  resolved  to  he 
pleased  and  gratified  with  this  mark  of  the  con- 
sideration in  which  he  held  her;  and  to  submit 
his  letter  to  her  father's  perusal,  in  the  hopes 
that  he  would  tell  her  shi^  must  answer  it. — 
But,  then,  what  would  her  father  think  of  the 
passages  which  were  so  eqii  ivocal  in  expression 


COMING    IN    OF    THE    POST.  209 

that  even  she  herself  could  not  make  out  their 
tendency?  She  forgot  that  her  father  was  not 
quite  so  much  interested  in  affixing  a  meaning 
to  them  ;  and  she  was  amazed,  as  she  followed 
the  direction  of  his  eye  down  the  paper,  to 
find  that  he  went  steadily  on  from  the  first  line 
to  the  last,  without  any  more  variation  of 
countenance  than  if  he  had  been  reading  a 
church  brief.  The  good  Rector  had,  indeed, 
less  than  any  man,  the  talent  on  which  Boni- 
face piques  himself,  of  "  finding  out  a  plot,"  and 
though  a  smile  played  upon  his  features  as  he 
slowly  folded  up  tlie  letter,  with  the  utmost 
exactness^  it  was  merely  excited  by  the  affec- 
tionate association,  in  his  mind,  of  Hamilton 
at  thirty  six,  with  Hamilton,  at  fifteen. 

"  A  very  good  letter,"  he  said,  as  he  returned 
it  to  Catherine,  "and  very  like  himself — quite 
gallant — politeness  to  the  ladies,  and  bravery 
in  the  field,  ii>  his  code  d'honneur,.     He  would 


210  COMING    IN    OF    THE    POST. 

have  made  quite  a  preux  chevalier  in  the  days 
of  chivahy — but  they  are  gone  by,  sure  enough, 
as  Mr.  Buske  said, — I  like  his  pun,  though,  of 
calliiig  liimself  a  Craven  Knight — it's  very  good 
— like  tlie  iatin  derivation  of  grove,  liicus  a  non 
lucendo  ;  it's  curious  to  see  liow  words  come,  in 
time,  to  take  a  meaning  exactly  opposite  to  that 
which  they  were  originally  intended  to  convey  : 
recluse,  now,  from  redusus,  gives  us  the  idea  of 
a  man  shut  up,  whereas  it  is  rather  one  set  at 
liberty — and  the  Greek  OcDa^eiv  winch  at  once 
signifies  currere,  to  run,  and  sedere,  to  sit  still ; 
also  in  our  own  language,  nervous,  strong,  and 
nervous,  tveak — reach  me  my  dictionary  of  de- 
rivations, my  dear — it  is  wonderfully  pleasant 
to  hunt  all  these  seeming  contradictions  up  to 
their  root." 

Catherine  obeyed,  and  whilst  her  father 
pored,  with  never-wearied  patience,  over  his 
favourite  folio,  she  fixed  her  eyes  again  upon 
Hamilton's  letter,  as  if  she,  likevdse,  was  going 


COMING    IN    OF    THE    POST.  211 

to  analyze  the  meaning  of  every  particular  word 
in  it,  philologically. 

The  very  next  morning,  Fanny  Brayswick 
called  to  congratulate  Catlierine  on  having 
heard  from  the  Colonel. 

"And,  pray,  who  made  you  so  wise?"  asked 
Catherine,  her  face  once  more  radiant  with 
smiles:  she  received  the  answer  she  had  an- 
ticipated. 

"  Mally  Garbutt  had  just  called  in,  as  she 
went  past,  and  liad  accidentally  mentioned  it." 

"  Oil  yes  ! — and  I  dare  say  she  would  just 
call  at  every  door  in  Nethercross,  and  accident- 
ally mention  it  to  every  body  she  might  chance 
to  meet.  It's  well  I've  no  secret  correspon- 
dence—but, indeed,  I  should  be  clever  to  keep 
it  so,  if  she  were  the  depositary  of  it." 

She,  then,  to  prove  that  she  had,  as  she  said, 
no  secret  correspondence,  took  the  letter  out  of 
her  pocket  — remember,  gentle  reader,  Nether- 
cross is  two  hundred  miles  from  London,  and. 


212  COMING    IN    OF    THE    POST. 

at  that  distance,  pockets  are  not  only  allowable^ 
but  deemed  indispensable,  for  young  housekeep- 
ers— we  repeat  tlieUj  she  took  the  letter  out  of 
her  pocket,  and  gave  it  to  Fanny  to  read,  look- 
ing over  her  shoulder  as  she  did  so ;  though  il 
will  be  readily  believed  that  its  contents  were 
already  pretty  well  known  to  her  by  heart. 

"  What  a  clever,  nice  letter,"  said  Fanny^ 
when  she  had  finished  it,  "  it  certainly  is  not  a 
bit  of  a  love-letter,  but  it  is  so  nice  and  lively, 
and  affectionate  too,  that  i4<'s  almost  as  good. — 
And,  now,  you'll  answer  it — and  you  write 
such  a  nice  letter !  you  may  well  lil^e  to  write; 
but  as  for  me,  I  don't  know  wliat  I  should  do 
if  I  were  to  get  a  lover  that  would  want  me  to 
correspond  witb  him.  I  should  be  afraid  my 
letters  would  soon  cure  him  ;  I  should  come  to 
you  to  tell  me  what  to  say." 

''  Nay,  my  dear  Fanny,"  said  Catherine, 
"now  you  do  yourself  injustice,  as  you  often 
do — and  you  know  I  told  you  once  never  to  be 


COMING   IN   OF    THE    POST.  213 

SO  ready  to  acknowledg^e  to  yourself  that  you 
cannot  do  this,  or  the  other,  well ;  for  it  only 
makes  you  easy,  under  the  consciousness  of 
-mediocrity,  without  trying  to  do  any  better," 


2U 


CHAPTER  XIII. 


LETTER  WRITING. 


For  all  Catherine  had  began  and  ended  so 
many  letters  to  Hamilton,  in  imagination,  as 
she  sat  at  work,  she  yet  delayed  answering  his 
epistle  from  day  to  day,  scarcely  knowing  what  to 
say  to  him,  till  at  last  her  father  told  her  it  would 
appear  unkind  and  unpolite  to  remain  silent 
any  longer,  and  she  was  not  sorry  to  receive 
this  little  reproof,  as  an  injunction,  because  the 


LETTER    WRITING.  215 

mention  of  it  Would  at  any  rate  afford  her  a 
beginning  to  her  epistle. 

"  I'm  sure,"  thought  she,  as  she  seated  her- 
self at  her  writing  table,  and  looked  over  all  her 
pens,  one  by  one,  "  Fanny  need  not  have  com- 
plimented me  upon  my  readiness  in  letter- 
writing,  for  I  declare  I  neither  know  how  to 
begin,  nor  what  to  say."  Yet  in  a  very  few 
minutes,  no  one  who  had  looked  at  her  would 
have  imagined  that  she  had  felt  any  difficulty  in 
the  matter,  so  quickly  did  her  pen  fly  over  the 
paper ;  whilst  the  tender  smiles  that  played  un- 
consciously round  her  mouth,  and  the  animation 
that  sparkled  in  her  eyes,  as  she  occasionally 
raised  them,  as  though  to  bring  with  more  pre- 
cision, his  image  to  her  recollection,  shewed  how 
entirely  she  was  hurried  away  by  the  current  of 
feeling  which  she  had,  for  a  while,  vainly  en- 
deavoured to  stem ;  and  which  she  had  now  an 
excuse  for  abandoning  herself  to,  at  le.ist  during 


216  LETTER    WRITING. 

the  time  that  she  was  in  a  maimer  compelled  to 
address  herself  to  its  object. 

If  Catherine  had  felt  some  reluctance  to  begin 
her  letter^  she  beheld  the  termination  of  it  with 
much  more  regret — it  was  like  breaking  off  a 
conversation,  but,  alas !  without  the  same 
power  of  renewing  it  ad  libitum.  She  blushed^ 
too,  when  she  saw  to  what  a  length  it  had  run; 
so  much  longer  than  his  own.  Yet  she  would 
not  endeavour  to  abridge  it,  lest  she  should  do 
as  Richardson  did,  in  his  Clarissa;  when,  on 
being  accused  of  prolixity,  by  dint  of  writing 
the  portion  complained  of  over  again,  and  leav- 
ing out  every  thing  good  and  sprightly  in  it, 
he  found  he  had  made  it  just  twice  the  length 
it  was  at  first. 

"  He  will  make  no  remarks  to  my  disadvan- 
tage, if  he  have  a  real  friendship  for  me,"  said 
sl^e,  "and  if  not,  they  are  not  worth  thinking  of, 
either  one  way  or  the  other;"  and  with  this 


LETTER    WRITING.  217 

feflection  she  gave  the  letter  to  her  father  for 
his  approbation ;  he  was,  at  first,  unwilling  to 
read  it. 

^'  My  dear,  you  know,"  said  he,  "  I  never 
like  any  restraint  in  matters  of  friendship  ;  and, 
therefore,  I'm  sorry  if  you  wrote  this  letter 
under  tlie  idea  that  you  ought  to  shev/  it  to 
me :  there  is  something  in  the  certainty  of  a 
lotter  being  seen  by  any  other  than  the  person 
it  is  written  to,  which  must  a  little  fetter  both 
the  thoughts  and  style ;  foTj  in  fact,  even  in 
conversation,  you  cannot  very  well  address 
yourself  to  two  people  at  once." 

Catherine  assured  him,  and  truly  enough, 
tliat  she  never  once  thought  about  him  whilst 
she  was  writing;  and  he  then  declared  himself 
willing  to  look  it  over,  as  it  was  the  first  she 
had  ever  written  to  a  gentleman. 

"  Just  to  give  a  little  of  the  limce  labor,  if 
there  should  need  it,"  said  he,  putting  on  his 
spectacles,  "  though,  in  fact,  I  am  not  sure  that 

VOL.    I.  L 


218  LETTER    WRITING. 

our  sex  does  not  rather  like  in  yours  some  little 
negligences  and  incorrectnesses — we  like  to  feel 
ourselves  the  wisest  of  the  two,  you  know — 
and  we  should  do  so ;  wisdom  is  not  the  distin- 
guishing attribute  of  the  female  mind." 

He  then  hummed  over  the  letter  in  a  mono- 
tonous tone,  not  very  likely  to  put  Catherine 
in  love  with  her  own  composition. 

*'  Bless  me,"  thought  she,  "  how  stupid  it 
sounds  !  it  didn't  seem  so  to  me^  when  I  was 
writing  it,"  and,  as  if  fearful  that  its  little  re* 
maining  spirit  would  all  evaporate,  if  it  con- 
tinued any  longer  open,  she  sealed  it  upas  soon 
as  ever  her  father  had  given  it  his  approving 
nod ;  and  Mally  Garbutt  had  the  satisfaction  of 
conveying  to  the  coach  the  epistle,  as  follows  : 

"  JVethercross  Rectory,  A]  r II  IS. 

"  My  father  tells  me,  my  dear  Sir,  that  I 
shall  appear  both  unkind  and  unpolite  in  de- 
laying any  longer  acknowledging  the  receipt  of 


LETTER    WRITING.  219 

the  letter  to  him,  which  you  kindly  paid  me  the 
compliment  of  addressing  to  his  daughter. — 
My  friendship  for  you,  and  my  respect  for  my- 
self, are  equally  concerned  in  avoiding  an  ap- 
pearance of  inattention,  which  would  do  great 
i/jjustice  to  my  feelings;  I  have,  therefore,  at 
length,  summoned  sufficient  resolution  to  be- 
come my  father^s  amanuensis,  though,  I  can 
assure  you,  it  is  not  without  trepidation,  that  I 
submit  my  unadorned  phrases  to  the  inspec- 
tion of  one  so  skilled  in  all  tlie  nice  felicities  of 
language,  and  so  fastidious  a  judge  of  its  ele- 
gance. Nature,  however  has,  I  believe,  endowed 
most  weak  animals  with  a  degree  of  policy,  in 
proportion  as  they  are  destitute  of  other  advan- 
tages ;  and  as  a  proof  that  I  come  in  for  my 
share  of  benefit  in  this  her  wise  arrangement,  I 
shall  immediately  endeavour  to  divert  your 
attention  from  my  style  by  fixing  it  on  my  sub- 
ject;  with  this  view  I  am  justified  in  choosing 
one  which  I  dare  say  you  will  think  could  not 
L  2 


220  LETTER    WRITING^ 

well  be  exchanged  for  a  better,  when  you  find 
out  that  it  is  neither  more  nor  less  than  your- 
self. But  few  words,  I  hope,  are  necessary  to 
convey  to  you  an  adequate  idea  of  the  chasm 
your  departure  makes  at  our  fire-side.  I  have 
always  heard  my  father  express  the  affection  of 
a  parent  for  you;  judge  then  what  pleasure  it 
must  have  given  me  to  see  you  treat  him  with 
the  attention  of  a  son  !  It  seemed  to  make  you 
at  once  my  brother;  and  as  I  have  often  wished 
for  the  delightful  exchange  of  sentiment  which 
such  an  endearing  tie  must  produce,  no  wonder 
that  I  felt  its  value,  when  3'OU  were  kind  enough 
to  assume  it  for  me,  to  stoop  your  intellect  to 
mine,  and  to  endeavour  to  raise  mine  to  yours, 
by  refining  my  taste  and  quickening  my  relish 
for  studies,  the  beauties  of  whicli  you  daily  ex- 
hibited to  me  in  new  lights.  I  ought  to  profit 
by  the  past — I  agree  with  you,  that  the  memory 
of  it  is  all  tliat  we  can  call  our  own :  Cowley 
thanks  the  Gods,   that  it  is  what  all  the  malice 


LETTER    WRITING.  221. 

of  fortune  cannot  deprive  him  of.  But  it  ought 
to  be  turned  to  better  account  than  a  mere 
field  of  retrospection,  or  else  how  bitter  the 
regrets  that  might  arise  at  every  turn  of  view  ! 
I  know  I  ought  to  make  all  tliat  you  have  al- 
ready taught  me  conducive  to  my  future  im- 
provement, and  I  am  angry  with  myself  that  I 
have  not  yet  done  so.  Not  one  page  have  I  ad- 
vanced in  the  volume  which  you  ran  from,  in 
the  middle  of  its  most  beautiful  episode.  You 
will  say  that,  even  by  my  ow^n  account,  I  shew 
at  least  equal  indifference  to  its  attractions ;  but 
the  attempt  to  continue  the  lesson  by  myself, 
only  reminds  me  that  the  master  is  gone. 

*'  My  father  tells  me,  I  ought  to  say  by  my 
friends,  as  Petrarch  did  by  his  books,  they 
would  have  been  of  little  use  to  me,  had  they 
not  taught  me  to  bear  their  loss  !  This  lesson 
of  wisdom  I  suppose  never  came  into  your  head, 
Mr.  Philosopher — at  least,  you  never  attempted 
to  put  it  into  mine ;  for  which  I  am  very  angry 


222  LETTER    WRITING, 

with  you.  But,  after  all,  it  is  the  weakness  of 
Petrarch  that  has  immortalized  him:  how  few 
know  or  care  about  his  fortitude,  how  many- 
sympathize  in  tiie  sensibility  which  nursed  a 
hopeless  passion,  even  beyond  the  grave:  to 
maintain,  however,  that  feebleness  is  better  than 
strength,  would  be  an  argument  too  strictly 
feminine;  thei'^fore  away  with  the  subject: — 
and  now  for  domestic  news. 

"  You  arc  as  much  missed  in  the  village  of 
IVethercross,  and  all  "  its  tofts  and  crofts,"  as 
Buonaparte  was  in  the  island  of  Elba,  when  he 
took  liimself  away  in  such  a  hurry  ;  for,  be  it 
known,  all  great  men  form  sudden  determina- 
tions. Your  Mercury  regrets  you  much  ;  she 
says  you  were  a  nice  gentleman,  for  you  were 
always  having  letters,  or  parcels.  I  say  she 
still ;  for  his  godship  persists  in  disguising  Ids 
radiant  form,  in  a  duffield  cloak,  and  still  hides 
his  "  feathered  feet"  with  the  iron  rings  which 
you  used  to  like  the  sound  of  so  well,  v>dienyou 


LETTER    WRITING.  223 

were  growing  impatient  for  the  news.  Caesar 
bears  your  absence  en  philosophe,  probably, 
from  his  instinctive  sagacity,  knowing  that  you 
do  the  same.  But  your  favorite  Polish  hen, 
the  coquette  in  the  French  bonnet,  as  you  used 
to  call  her,  with  her  shaking  plumes,  still  comes 
under  the  window  at  breakfast  time,  aud  holds 
her  pretty  tufted  head  on  one  side,  watching 
for  the  crumbs  she  used  to  receive  from  your 
hand,  and  of  which,  you  may  be  sure,  she  is 
not  suffered  to  be  disappointed — particularly  as 
she  now  comes  with  a  dozen  additional  claim- 
ants at  her  heels ;  having  taken  upon  herself 
the  cares  of  a  mother,  and  acquitting  herself  of 
her  duty  to  her  young  brood,  with  much  pro- 
priety, maugre  her  constitutional  vanity.  Every 
thing  around  us  is  beginning  "  to  prosper,  bud, 
and  bloom,"  a  thousand  vegetable  beauties  have 
made  their  appearance  which  you  will  never 
see,  and  would  scarcely  look  at  if  you  did. — 
Rousseau  says,  he  hopes  there  will  be  flowers 


224  LETTER   WRITING. 

in  Heaven — flowers  of  rhetoric  are,   I  believe, 
all  that  you   have  any  real  admiration  of— and 
as  that  reminds  me  that  you  will  not  find  many 
of  them  in  this  epistle,  I  will  forthwith  relieve 
you   from   the  further  perusal  of  it.     So  here 
ends  part   the  first  of  our  "  Correspondence, 
Sentimental  and   Literary."     How  could  you 
mention  such  ill-omened  names  as  "Henry  and 
Frances?"    After  a  secret  engagement  of  years, 
embittered  by  jealousies,  caprices,  and  reproach, 
they  were,  at  last,   enabled  to  promulgate  their 
union  to  the  world,   and  Frances  lived   to  be 
made  miserable  by  the  infidelity  and  ill-usage 
of  the  man  to  whom  she  had  offered  all  the 
the  warm  affections  of  her  youth,   devoted  all 
her  intellectual  acquirements,  and  sacrificed  all 
her  worldly  prospects.     When  I  erect  an  altar 
to  friendship,  may  far  other  tutelar  deities  con- 
descend to  preside  over  it ! 

"  Adieu  !  my  father  sends  you  his  benediction  ! 
—  never  did  papal  one  emanate  from   a  purer 


LETTER    WRITING. 


'K):% 


heart,  I  beg,  tlierefore,  you  will  value  it  ac- 
cordingly ;  and  accept,  along  with  it,  the  esteem 
and  good  wishes  of,  my  dear  Sir, 

<*  Most  sincerely  yours, 
"  Catherine  Neville." 

Catherine  felt  as  much  agitated,  as  the  time 
approached  for  Hamilton  to  receive  her  letter, 
as  if  she  had  been  obliged  to  see  him  read  it  in 
person  :  and  her  cheeks  glowed  as  she  thought 
of  the  remarks  he  might  make  to  himself  on 
perusing  it.  But  this  kind  of  anxiety  was  so 
much  better  than  the  languor  she  had  experi- 
enced in  the  dearth  of  all  communication  with 
him,  that  her  spirits,  for  a  time,  regained  their 
elasticity ;  and  she  began  once  more  to  scale 
the  heights  of  Castleberg  with  her  usual  activity 
and  enjoyment. 

She  was,  however,  unconsciously  to  herself, 
supported  by  the  expectation  of  hearing  from 
L  5 


2*26  LETTER    WRITING. 

Lim  again  ;  but  wlien  day  after  day  elapsed, 
and  the  hope  raised  every  morning  in  her 
breast,  by  Mally  Garbutt's  pattens,  as  she  passed 
the  end  of  the  lane,  was  condemned  to  gradual 
extinction,  as  the  sounds  lessened  in  distance, 
she  again  drooped,  and  once  more  plied  her 
needle,  absorbed  in  silent  reveries.  Sometimes 
she  would  draw  scenes  of  future  happiness,  in 
the  imaginary  contemplation  of  which  her 
countenance  assumed,  unconsciously  to  herself, 
the  angelic  expression  of  every  lovely  feminine 
attribute;  at  others  she  vrould  abandon  herself 
to  regrets  that  she  had  ever  cultivated  tastes 
and  feelings  which,  in  the  confined  circle  of  her 
associates,  she  could  never  expect  to  be  sliarcd  ; 
and  which,  therefore,  only  exposed  her  eitlier  to 
perpetual  loneliness  of  the  heart,  a  solitude 
above  all  others  afflicting  and  terrible,  to  the 
mind  of  youth,  or  to  catch,  with  an  avidity 
which  might  be  still  more  destructive  to  her 


LETTER    WRITING.  2*27 

peace,  at  any  appearance  of  that  congeniality  of 
sentiment  and  pursuit,  for  which  she  longed 
with  all  the  eagerness  of  a  miser,  who  is  im- 
patient to  turn  to  the  utmost  advantage  some 
newly  discovered  source  of  wealth. 


^8^ 


CHAPTER  XIV. 


AN  ADDITION   TO  THE  PARTY. 


It  happened  fortunately  for  Catherine,  that 
her  father's  attention  towards  her,  and  hers  to 
herself,  received  a  temporary  diversion,  at  this 
period,  hy  the  arrival  of  Mrs.  Barton,  her  married 
sister,  who  came  to  spend  a  few  days  with  them, 
her  husband  having  some  business  at  the  markets 
in  the  neighbourhood.  The  domestic  circle  of 
the  Rectory  was  therefore  once  more  enlivened. 


AN    ADDITION    TO    TPIE    PARTY.  2*29 

ot  only  by  the  addition  of  ?>Ir.  and  Mrs.  Bar- 
ton, and  their  two  children,  but  also  by  the 
friends  who  hastened  to  see  them  ;  for  Amelia 
was  beloved  by  all  who  had  ever  known  her; 
and  Catherine's  gratification,  in  her  sister's 
society,  was  always  heightened  by  seeing  how 
warmly  she  was  greeted  by  her  old  acquaint- 
ance— and  what  pleasure  it  gave  her  to  renew 
her  intimacies  with  them,  wlienever  her  brief 
absence  from  her  own  home  allowed  her  the 
opportunity  of  doing  so. 

Among  the  foremost  who  called  to  request 
that  they  might  have  a  portion  of  Mr.  and  Mrs. 
Barton's  visit,  was  Louisa  Longcroft,  whose 
play-fellow  and  companion  she  had  been,  from 
infancy.  Edward  Longcroft  never  omitted  to 
accompany  his  cousin  to  the  Rectory,  though  of 
late  he  had  rarely  visited  it  without  her. 

"  My  dear  Mrs.  Barton,"  said  he,  as  he  flew 
towards  her  to  take  lier  hand,  with  all  the 
affection  of  a  brother,  '*  I  am  fortunate,  in  being 


230  AN    ADDITION    TO   THE    PARTY. 

for  once,  in  this  part  of  the  world,  at  the  same 
lime  with  yourself;  for  I  think,  the  four  or 
five  last  visits  you  have  paid  at  the  Rectorvj  I 
have  been  away;  and  I  have  the  honour  to  see 
your  little  daughter,  too,  for  the  first  time — 
Aunt  Catherine's  pet,  I  think  I  have  heard  ;'* 
taking  the  little  girl  in  his  arms,  for  he  was 
fond  of  children,  and  like  all  persons  who  are 
so,  had  a  happy  art  of  conciliating  their  affec- 
tion. Whilst  he  was  playing  with  her,  Louisa 
was  making  arrangements  with  Catherine,  to 
dine  at  the  Hall,  the  next  day,  which  she  gladly 
acceded  to,  and  with  the  more  pleasure,  as  she 
found  that  Mr  Longcroft  v,as  gone  to  York,  for 
the  assizes;  being  upon  the  Grand  Jury. 

Louisa  insisted  upon  sendinf^  the  carria^'e  for 
Mr.  Neville  and  his  daughters,  and  then,"  said 
she,  "  Mr.  Barton  can  take  a  seat  upon  the  box, 
and  protect  you,  and  you  will  be  altogether,  and 
we  shall  have  your  company  so  much  the  longer 
in  the  evening." 


AN    ADDITION    TO    THE    PARTY.  231 

Accordingly,  the  next  day,  tlie  whole  party 
found  themselves  after  a  delightful  drive,  at  the 
Kail,  where  they  likewise  met  Mr.  Dacres,  who 
was  a  gentleman  of  ancient  family,  but  un- 
fortunately the  remembrance  of  its  honours 
being  nearly  all  that  time  had  spared  of  its  pos- 
sessions, to  its  present  representatives,  he,  as  a 
younger  branch  of  it,  was  glad  to  accept  the 
situation  of  head-master  to  the  richly  endowed 

school  of  G 5  in  the  vicinity  of  Longcroft 

Hall ;  where,  devoted  to  the  duties  of  his  pro- 
fession, he  buried  himself  in  the  strictest  seclu- 
sion, immersed  in  learning,  and  knowing  no 
other  recreation,  but  what  he  found  in  the  cul- 
ture of  flowers,  of  which  he  was  passionately 
fond. 

"  They  are  beautiful,  but  they  have  no 
utility,"  said  Mr.  Longcroft,  one  day,  when 
liaving  called  at  the  school  on  a  matter  of  busi- 
ness, Mr.  Dacres  shewed  him  some  carnations 
exquisitely  tinted, — "and  I  believe  in  philoso- 


232  AN    ADDITION    TO    TKE    PARTY". 

pliy  it  is  admitted,  that  beauty,  to  be  perfect, 
ought  to  give  some  idea  of  use  also." — This  re- 
mark was  made  with  all  the  pomposity  of  one, 
accustomed  to  lay  down  the  law  to  his  country 
neighbours. 

"  It  depends  upon  what  you  may  think 
useful;"  said  Mr.  Dacre?,. —  '*  to  me,  flowers 
appear  to  possess  the  most  sublime  of  all  uses; 
for  they  shew  us  the  love  of  God,  in  calling 
objects  into  existence,  for  no  other  end,  as  it 
appears  to  us,  than  to  delight  our  senses,  by 
their  hues  and  fragrance  :  they  seem  to  autho- 
rize enjoyment,  and  therefore  ought  to  teach  us 
gratitude." 

Mr.  Longcroft  thought  this  argument  might 
do  very  well  for  a  clergymen,  or  a  parson,  as 
he  generally  termed  any  of  the  clerical  profes- 
sion, below  a  bishop,  that  might  happen  to 
differ  from  him  in  opinion ;  but  a  political 
economist  would,  he  believed,  fjnnex  a  good  deal 
more  value  to  the  florist's  art,  if  it  could  be 


AN    ADDITION    TO    THE    PARTY.  233 

rendered  any  way  conducive  to  the  sparing  of 
corn. 

He  invited  Mr.  Dacres,  however,  to  tl.e  Hall, 
because  lie  was  a  gentleman,  and,  though  poor 
himself,  allied  to  the  rich  and  powerful  ;— and 
Mr.  Dacres  accepted  the  invitation,  because  he 
heard  that,  notwithstanding  her  father's  lack  of 
taste  and  feeling.  Miss  Longcroft  had  one  of 
the  most  beautiful  green-houses  in  Craven. 
Thus  commenced  an  acquaintance  which  Ed- 
ward Longcroft  was  delighted  with,  for  Mr. 
Dacres  possessed  a  taste  in  common  with  him, 
as  well  as  with  Louisa, — if  with  her  he  culti- 
vated flowers,  with  him  he  cultivated  the  graces 
of  a  pure  style,  founded  on  the  finest  models  of 
Greek  and  Roman  eloquence — to  become  an 
able  orator,  was  Edward  Longcroft's  highest 
ambition,  for  the  most  disinterested  patriotism 
glowed  in  his  breast ;  and  "  to  teach  the  pas- 
sions to  move  at  the  command  of  virtue,"  and 
promote  the  interests  of  his  country,  by  gaining 


234  AN    ADDITION    TO    THE    PARTY. 

the  hearts  of  his  auditors,  was  what  he  ardently 
looked  forward  to,  through  the  interest  of  his 
uncle,  in  procuring  him  a  seat  in  the  British 
Senate. 

Amelia  had  never  seen  Mr.  Dacres  before^ 
and  v.as  much  pleased  with  the  fine  expression 
of  thought,  which  his  countenance  exhibited, 
and  with  the  general  suavity  and  composure  of 
his  demeanour.  Mr.  Neville  had  often  met 
with  him,  and  admired  his  learning,  which  he 
said  would  do  credit  to  lawn  sleeves,  whilst  he 
reverenced  the  piety  that  made  him  find  suf- 
ficient excitement  in  the  fulfilment  of  the  noise- 
less though  important  duties  of  his  situation; 
these  were  precisely  the  qualities  which  Mr. 
Dacres,  in  his  turn,  always  admired  in  the 
worthy  Rector ;  and,  in  short,  by  a  chance  which 
even  in  small  meetings  rarely  does,  and  in  large 
ones  never  can  occur,  all  the  party  felt  the  most 
cordial  good-will,  and  esteem  for  each  other; 
insomuch  that  the  expectations  they  had  indi- 


AN    ADDITION    TO    THE    PARTY.  235 

vidually  indulged,  of  a  day  of  refined  and 
cheerful  enjoyment,  were  exceeded  by  the 
pleasure  it  actually  afforded  tliem  together. 

Perhaps  the  absence  of  the  elder  Mr.  Long- 
croft  had  some  share  in  the  exhilaration  of 
spirits  which  every  one  was  sensible  of;  for 
Louisa  and  Edward  Longcroft,  were  that  day 
evidently  more  at  ease  without  him  ;  and  in- 
deed, at  any  time  in  his  presence,  few  were 
unconscious  of  the  chilling  effect  invariably  pro- 
duced by  a  substitution  of  the  politeness  incul- 
cated by  rule,  for  that  which  springs  from  the 
heart. 

"  What  a  charming  garden  yours  is,  Louisa," 
said  Mrs.  Barton,  as  she  walked  round  it  to  see 
some  beautiful  auriculas  of  Mr.  Dacre's  plant- 
ing, "  how  much  it  is  improved,  even  since  I 
was  here  in  the  autumn." 

"  Oh,  but  do  you  remember  the  fine  garden 
we  made  in  the  corner  of  your  father's  orchard, 
Amelia,"  said  Edward  Longcroft. 


S36  AN    ADDITION    TO    THE    PARTY. 

"  Yes,  very  well;  and  I  remember,  too,  how 
frigliteDecl  I  was  when  I  saw  what  fine  flowers 
you  had  robbed  his  favorite  beds  of,  for  it." 

''  And  how  affronted  we  both  were,  when  it 
was  finished,  and  Catherine  wouki  lead  little 
Ponto  tlirougli  the  fairy  plantation,  on  his  hind 
legs,  and  knocked  down  all  its  glories  with  her 
frock,  as  she  turned  the  corners ;  away  went 

'  The  lily,  lady  of  the  flowering  field, 
The  flower-de-luce^  her  lovely  belamour.* 

but  she  always  was  a  mischief-maker." 

As  Edward  spoke  thus  of  her,  he  pressed  her 
hand  with  affectiomite  familiarity,  and  smiled 
at  her  with  a  fullness  of  sensibility  calculated  to 
awaken  a  thousand  innocent  and  endearing 
recollections,  had  she  not  felt  almost  distrustful 
of  her  claim  upon  his  friendship  ;  for  she  could 
not  hide  from  herself,  that  there  existed  one 
for  whom,  although  too  probably  a  character  of 
far  less  worth,  she  still  entertained  a  sentiment 


AN    ADDITION    TO    THE    PARTY.  237 

of  much  more  warmtli ;  and  this  consciousness 
clouded  her  countenance,  for  the  moment,  with 
a  gloom  which  was  instantly  reflected  in  that 
of  Louisa,  whose  eyes  seemed  as  if  they  would 
penetrate  into  Edward's  innermost  soul — but 
he  was  not  sensible  of  their  scrutiny — for  he 
was  still  talking  to  Mrs.  Barton  of  "  days  lang 
syne,"  and  had  then  got  into  the  middle  of  some 
adventures  that  had  befallen  them,  on  an  expe- 
dition to  Gordale-Scaur. 

"  Do  let  us  have  another  day  there,"  said  he, 
"  I  should  like  a  pic-nic,  among  the 

'  Antres  vast,  and  deserts  idle.' 

what  do  you  say  Dacres?  Will  you  join  our 
party?  You  will  find  your  favorite  Palemonium 
Cceruleum  in  abundance  there." 

"  Aye,  and  the  Gentiana  Amarella^  too," 
said  Mr.  Neville,  "  and  the  Primula  FarinosOi 
with  its  elegant  pink  blossoms,  only  that  does 


238  AN    ADDITION    TO    THE    PARTY. 

not  flower  till  August ;  and  the  Campestris^  and 
what  is  better  than  all  the  rest,  the  Lichen 
Exanthematicus^  which  you  won't  very  often 
see  any  where  else,  I  can  tell  you." 

"  I  feel  no  want  of  inducements  to  join  a 
party  like  the  present,"  said  Mr.  Dacres,  "  but 
those  you  hold  out  would  draw  me  even  alone 
to  the  spot;  therefore,  unfortunately  for  my 
gallantry,  my  compliance  must  be  placed  to  the 
account  of  self-gratification." 

"  Well,"  cried  Edward,  "  all  the  world  is 
actuated  by  the  same  motive,  at  least  so  says 
Helvetius.  I  know,  at  any  rate,  I  am  n  yself, 
in  this  instance ;  so  reward  my  sincerity,  Mrs. 
Barton,  and  let  us  fix  to-morrow  for  our  ex- 
pedition." 

"  Not  to-morrow,"  said  Amelia,  looliiig  af- 
fectionately at  her  husb^md,  "  it  is  the  visita- 
tion, and  Henry  must  dine  at  Skipton,  with  my 
father." 


AN    ADDITION    TO    THE    PARTY.  239 

<«  Well,  then,  the  next  day." 
*'  Yes,  the  next  day ;"  every  one  echoed,  and 
so  the  next  day  was  '*  carried,"  nem  con. 


t24<) 


CHAPTER  XIV. 


A    SURPRISE. 


Catherine  was  very  fond  of  her  brother- 
in-law,  with  wliom  slie  was  a  special  favorite, 
in  return.  She  generally  accompanied  him  on 
his  rambles,  when  he  came  to  the  Rectory, 
whilst  his  wife  was  engaged  with  her  ciiildren; 
and  she  had  been  accustomed  to  look  forward 
to  his  conversation,  as  something  of  a  treat ;  for 
he  was  well  read,  and  was  fond  of  talking  over 


A    SURPRISE.  241 

he  studies  lie  had  engaged  in,  since  they  had 
last  met;  having  no  one  near  him,  at  Black- 
thorn-cottage, of  pursuits  congenial  to  his  own. 
Now,  however,  for  the  first  time,  she  found  de- 
ficiencies in  him,  which  made  him  appear  a  less 
agreeable  companion  than  he  had  ever  been 
before. 

"  Henry  Barton,"  said  she  to  herself,  "  is  a 
good  creature,  as  ever  was  born  ;  and  he  has 
great  merit,  too,  in  cultivating  his  mind  so 
sedulously,  surrounded  as  he  is  only  by  the 
clod  poles  his  father  has  brought  him  up  amongst. 
But,  after  all,  he  is  such  a  mere  matter-of-fact- 
man,  that  one  soon  tires  of  him — he  tells  one 
an  anecdote  jast  as  he  reads  it,  and  there's  an 
end  of  it.  And  then  he  moralizes,  too,  in  such 
a  common-place  way,  and  wonders  how  the 
Romans  could  degenerate  so  as  to  suffer  them- 
selves to  be  conquered  by  the  Goths,  and  finds 
out  that  it  was  an  abominable  thing  in  Henry 
Vni,  to  cut  off  his  wives'  heads,  and  not  much 

VOL.    I.  M 


242  A   SURPRISE. 

better  in  Queen  Elizabeth,  to  sign  Essex's  death 
warrant.  There  is  no  play  of  imagination 
about  him — no  whim,  no  wit — he  would  as 
soon  think  of  launching  a  man  of  war,  as 
maintaining  a  paradox." 

Henry  Barton  was  not,  however,  so  deficient 
in  quickness,  but  that  he  could  perceive,  on 
his  side,  that  Catherine  was  by  no  means  the 
lively  companion  she  had  been. 

"  I  think  your  sister  is  altered,  Amelia,"  he 
remarked,  as  they  were  retiring  to  rest,  after 
their  visit  to  Longcroft  Hall. 

"  Slie  does  look  thin,"  said  Amelia,  ^'  I  ob- 
served, yesterday,  that  her  clothes  seemed  to 
hang  upon  her,  and  she  has  lost  a  great  deal  of 
her  colour." 

"  And  of  her  spirits,  too,  which  is  worse," 
said  Henry,  "  you  don't  think  she's  in  love,  do 
you  ?" 

"  In  love,  my  dear  !  who  can  she  be  in  love 
with  ?  you  know  she  quite  laughs  at  William 


A   SURPRISE.  243 

Brays  wick  ;  and  Mr.  Pugh,  she  told  me  herself, 
is  engaged  to  Fanny — and  there  is  nobody  else. 
— >0h  yes  !  to  be  sure,  there  is  Edward  Long- 
croft,  but  she  knows  that  he  has  been  engaged 
to  his  cousin,  ever  since  they  were  children  ; 
besides,  that's  quite  out  of  the  question — she  has 
too  much  good  sense,  and  too  much  honest 
pride,  to  think  of  a  man,  whose  uncle  would 
conceive  it  the  greatest  condescension  in  the 
world  to  look  upon  her. — 1  should  like  to  see 
old  Mr.  Longcroft  giving  his  consent,  even 
supposing  he  would  give  it,  to  receiving  any 
body  like  us,  as  his  niece." 

"  Well,  but  that  is  not  all  !  you  forget  Colonel 
Hamilton,  and  well  you  may,  for  Catherine  does 
not  mention  his  name  now,  perpetually,  as  she 
did  in  her  letters." 

"For  a  very  good  reason,  I  dare  say;  now 
tliat  she  has  no  longer  the  trouble  of  entertain- 
ing him,  and  thinking  of  ordering  what  he 
would  like,  I  don't  suppose  she  ever  thinks 
M  2 


244  A    SURPRISE. 

about  Lim — it  is  not  likely  sLc  should — a  man 
twelve  or  fourteen  years  older  than  herself,  and 
in  quite  a  different  sphere  of  life  besides : — a 
very  dissipated  sphere  too ;  I  am  afraid." — 
Amelia,  as  she  spoke,  was  pinning  the  binder 
of  her  night-cap,  the  exact  plaiting  and  snowy 
whiteness  of  which  formed  an  appropriate  em- 
blem of  the  regularity  and  purity  of  her  own 
mind;  and  as  she  bent  over  her  sleeping  infants, 
to  imprint  the  kiss  of  maternal  love  upon  their 
rosy  cheeks,  Henry  thought  tliat,  however  dissi- 
pated a  man  might  be,  there  was  something  in 
the  portraiture  of  a  young  and  tender  mother, 
that  would  go  a  long  way  towards  rendering 
him  enamoured  of  virtue. 

Catherine  was  not  sorry  to  see  her  father  and 
Henry  mount  their  horses,  the  next  morning,  to 
go  to  the  quarterly  sessions ;  for  she  could  not 
lielp  remembering  that  it  was  three  montlis, 
that  very  day,  since  she  had  first  seen  Colonel 
Hamilton  ;  and  so  many  recollections  crowded 


A  suhprise.  245 

into  her  mind,  at  the  same  time,  that  she  felt 
it  would  be  quite  as  much  as  she  could  do,  to 
prevent  her  gravity  from  being  noticed  by  her 
sister. — With  the  assistance  of  the  children, 
however,  tlie  day  passed  off,  in  a  kind  of  aifec- 
tionate  tranquility,  as  soothing  to  her  spirits,  as 
it  was  endearing  to  her  heart. 

Mrs.  Barton  was  four  years  older  than  Ca- 
therine, and  of  course,  on  the  lamented  deatli 
of  her  mother,  she  was  deemed  capable  of  di- 
recting the  household  affairs,  wliilst  Catherine 
remained  comparatively  a  child.  But  the  pre- 
cedence which  this  difference  of  age  necessarily 
gave  her,  had  no  other  effect  upon  her  beha- 
viour towards  her  younger  sister,  than  that  of 
making  her  still  more  anxious  to  supply  to  her, 
as  much  as  she  was  able,  the  place  of  the  parent 
they  had  lost ;  as  well  as  to  continue  her  com- 
panion, and  almost  her  playfellow. 

The  sweet  sedateness  of  Amelia's  manners, 
the  evenness  of  her  temper,  and  the  correctness 


246  A    SURPRISE. 

of  her  judgment,  were  all  calculated  to  excite 
equal  respect  and  love,  even  in  those  who  had 
no  particular  interest  in  studying  her  character: 
but  in  Catherine,  who  could  never  look  at  her 
without  remembering  the  kindness  she  had  re- 
ceived from  her,  in  her  earliest  youth,  these 
feelings  were  heightened  by  a  consciousness  of 
individual  gratitude,  which  rendered  her  con- 
tinually anxious  to  shew  her  that  her  tender 
cares  had  been  well  bestowed  ;  and  as  she  now 
looked  upon  her  sister's  countenance,  serene  as 
the  unruffled  lake,  which  reflects  only  the  aspect 
of  the  heavens,  she  felt  her  own  suffused  with 
momentary  crimson,  as  she  imagined  the  pain 
she  must  suffer,  if  ever  she  should  entertain  a 
thought  which  she  would  blush  to  acknowledge 
to  one  whose  mind  and  heart  were  the  reposi- 
tories of  practical  wisdom,  and  well-regulated 
affections. 

Mrs.  Barton  always  consoled  herself,  in  her 
husband's  occasional  absences,  (for  they  did  not 


A    SURPRISE.  247 

occur  often  enough  to  enable  her  to  become 
reconciled  to  them)  with  an  additional  share  of 
her  children's  company,  provided  she  was  so 
situated  as  to  be  able  to  indulge  her  own  incli- 
nation— and  with  Catherine  there  was  no  fear 
of  opposition  to  it.  Master  Percival,  therefore, 
and  Miss  Catherine  took  their  places  at  the 
dinner  table,  to  the  great  pleasure  not  only  of 
their  mother  and  aunt,  but  also  of  Margaret, 
who  waited  upon  them,  and  old  Rachel,  who 
came  into  the  room  to  gladden  herself  with 
looking  at  them,  under  pretence  of  seeing  how 
they  liked  their  pudding, 

Catherine  was  resolved  to  make  it  a  gala-day 
altogether  to  the  little  ones ;  and,  therefore,  as 
soon  as  dinner  was  over,  she  sallied  forth  with 
them,  into  the  great  barn,  where,  with  the  aid 
of  the  clerk,  who  was  as  much  the  good  Rector's 
assistant  in  temporal  as  in  spiritual  affairs,  being 
superintendant  both  of  the  stable  and  gardens, 
and  compounder  of  the  small  tythes,  she  put 


248  A   SURPRISE. 

up  a  swing;  but  not  chusing  to  risk  her  sister's 
treasures  in  it,  by  themselves,  she  took  tbem 
alternately  in  her  lap,  till,  at  last,  finding  tlie 
acknowledgment  that  they  had  had  swinging 
enough,  would  never  come  from  their  cherry 
lips,  she  was  forced  to  have  compassion  on  her 
own  head,  and,  after  running  races  round  the 
garden  w^ith  them,  to  return  to  the  parlour, 
where  they  were  promised  they  should  have 
their  bread  and  milk,  on  condition  that  they 
sate  very  still,  on  the  carpet,  to  build  houses 
with  cards,  "  whilst  mamma  and  aunt  played 
pretty  music." 

"  And  what  shall  we  have  ?"  said  Amelia, 
turning  over  the  leaves  of  a  thick  volume,  with 
every  page  of  which  she  was  familiar,  "  I  do 
love  all  those  things,  so,  though  I  have  heard 
them  over  and  over  again — indeed  every  one 
brings  its  scene  along  with  it — what  must  w^e 
have?" 

*'  I  think  some  of  the  duets  in   '  Acis  and 


A    SURPRISE.  249 

Galatea,'  are  very  pretty,"  said  Catherine,  her 
eye   lingering  on   every  note. 

"  Oh  tliey  are  beautiful  ! — I  remember  my 
father  used  to  laugh  at  me,  for  singing 

'  As  when  the  dove 
Laments  her  love.' 

when  Henry  left  me ;  but  it  always  was  my 
favourite  song." 

"  It  is  very  pretty — but  I  am  so  fond  of 
duets  !  and  you  take  a  second  so  well." 

They  accordingly  agreed  to  begin  with 

'  The  flocks  shall  leave  the  mountains.* 

"  You  shall  take  Galatea,  and  I  will  be  Acis," 
said  Mrs.  Barton  ;  "  but  what  shall  we  do  for  a 
Polyplieme?  we  shall  miss  him  iu 

'  I  burn  !  I  rave  !'  " 

'*Yes,"  said   Catherine,   "we  want  a  Poly- 
plieme," and  she  sighed  involuntarily— for  the 
M  5 


25Q  A    SURPRISE. 

name  bad  no  association  in  lier  mind  vvitli  a 
savage  monster. 

"  If  Henry  were  liere,  he  would  come  in  very 
well  for  that;  he  could  manage  these  passages^ 
they  are  so  easy/'  said  Mrs.  Barton,  "  must  we 
wait  for  him,  and  sing  something  else?" 

"  No,"  said  Catherine,  "  we  will  leave 
out  'the  monster  Polypheme,'  altogether;  we 
will  have  something  else."— Accordingly  they 
began 

'  Hush,  hush,  ye  pretty,  pretty,  vvarbh'ng  choir.' 

and  never  had  Catherine  sung  more  delight- 
fully ;  for  her  thoughts  reverted  to  Hamilton, 
who  had  so  often  accompanied  her ;  and  every 
note  was  fraught  with  the  full  expression  of  the 
tender  and  elegant  feeling  which  is  the  charac- 
teristic of  the  composition.  Suddenly  Mrs. 
Barton  stopped, — 

'*  There  is  a  knock  at  the  door,"  said  she, 
<'  who  can  it  be,  at  this  time  of  night  ?" 


A   SURPRISE.  251 

*'  Viery  likely  William  Brayswick,"  said  Ca- 
therine, "  and  Fanny  with  him." 

"  How  well  you  sing  this,  Catherine,"  said 
Mrs.  Barton,  *'  let  us  finish  it  before  tliey 
come  in." 

Accordingly  they  continued,  regardless  of  the 
little  bustle  in  the  passage — they  imagined 
AVilliam  was  hanging  up  his  great  coat,  or 
Fanny  was  taking  off  her  clogs ;  when  lo,  the 
door  was  opened,  and  in  walked  Hamilton  him- 
self! — Catherine  in  an  instant  felt  as  if  all  the 
world,  or  at  least  all  that  she  wished  for  in  it, 
was  secured  to  her  in  the  narrow  compass  of 
the  room,  and  by  the  eagerness  with  which  he 
flew  to  her,  the  undissembled  joy  that  flashed 
from  his  eyes,  the  fervour  with  which  he  pressed 
her  trembling  hands,  she  felt,  also,  that,  how- 
ever he  might  have  passed  the  time  he  had 
been  away,  he  experienced  as  great  a  delight  as 
she  did,  in  this,  to  her,  most  unexpected  meet- 
iijo. — She  knew  not  what  she  said — she  would 


262  A    SURPRISE. 

have  smiled,  but  her  very  soul  fluttered  on  her 
lips,  and  she  felt  them  quiver  in  despite  of  her- 
self, whilst  tears  started  into  her  eyes,  as  they 
one  moment  fixed  themselves  upon  his  face, 
with  unconscious  earnestness,  and  fell  the  next 
beneath  his  ardent,  answering,  enquiring  look. 
She  then  recollected  that  she  had  suffered  both 
her  hands  to  remain  in  his,  nay,^  she  was  net 
sure  that  they  had  not  returned  his  impassioned 
pressure,  and  covered  with  blushes,  she  made  a 
strong  effort  to  recover  her  self-command. 

"  How  little  I  thoughtof  seeing  you  to-night  ;.'^ 
said  she,  "or  indeed  ever  again  !  how  delighted 
my  father  will  be  !  was  not  Margaret  surprised^ 
when  she  opened  the  door? — But  I  forgot,  this 
is  my  lister,  Colonel  Hamilton — Mrs.  Barton, 
— Colonel  Hamilton  has  so  often  heard  me  talk 
of  you,  Amelia,  I  dare  say  he  does  not  look  upon 
you  as  a  stranger." 

Mrs.  Barton  made  the  prettiest  little  matronly 
curtsey   imaginable,   in   return   to  Hamilton's 


A    SURPRISE.  253 

profound  bow — but  tliat  curtsey  was  all  he  got 
in  reply  to  his  compliment,  when  he  said  that 
he  should  be  sorry  indeed  to  consider  any  of  Mr^ 
Neville's  family  as  strangers,  or  to  be  regarded 
as  a  stranger  by  them." 

"  My  dears,"  said  Mrs.  Barton,  "it  is  time 
for  you  to  have  your  bread  and  milk." 

"  You  said  we  were  to  have  it  with  you  and 
aunt,  when  you  got  tea  mamma,"  said  the  little 
boy,  without  venturing  to  take  his  eye,  for  a 
moment,  off  the  house,  two  stories  high,  which 
he  had  raised  with  the  cards  his  little  sister  held 
in  her  lap  for  him. 

"  Oh,  the  darlings  !"  exclaimed  Catherine, 
**and  so  they  shall ;  I  know  you'll  excuse  it. 
Colonel  Hamilton." 

The  Colonel,  of  course,  professed  he  should 
be  infinitely  delighted  to  see  the  young  ones 
busy  with  their  spoons  and  basins ;  and  Cathe- 
rine said  she  would  hasten  tea,  for  she  was  very- 
glad  of  a  few  minutes  to  recollect  herself,  and 


254  A    SURPRISE. 

still  more  glad  of  the  office  which  again  devolved 
upon  her,  of  giving  orders  to  get  the  room  ready 
for  Hamilton,  which  he  had  before  slept  in.  She 
flew  up  stairs. 

"  O  so  light  a  foot 
Will  ne'er  wear  out  the  everlasting  flint !" 

Margaret  and  Rachel  were  both  delighted 
with  Hamilton's  return,  and  Catherine  could 
not  but  see  their  affection  for  herself,  in  the 
alacrity  with  which  they  prepared  every  thing 
for  the  accommodation  of  her  guest,  for  so  they 
seemed  now  determined  exclusively  to  consider 
him. 

Catherine  made  her  re-appearance  in  the 
parlour,  at  the  same  time  with  the  tea-things ; 
and  as  Hamilton  took  his  usual  place  at  the 
table,  she  gave  him  a  smile,  which  bespoke  such 
fulness  of  content,  that  he  felt  sufficiently  satis- 
fied as  to  the  degree  of  happiness  with  which 
his  return  had  inspired  her  breast ; — her  little 


A    SURPRISE,  253 

nephew  and  niece  sate  on  eacli  side  of  her,  and 
lavished  their  infantine  caresses  on  her,  whilst 
she  shewed  them  every  indulgence  which  their 
mother,  judicious  as  she  was  affectionate,  would 
suffer  them  to  be  treated  with. — It  was  a  pretty 
family  scene,  and  so  greatly  did  Hamilton 
^  enjoy  it,  whilst  his  eyes  were  fixed  on  Catherine, 
that,  when  Mrs.  Barton  observed,  by  way  of 
adding  something  to  the  conversation,  it  was  a 
pity  her  father  was  not  at  home,  he  pitied 
her  for  finding  out,  that  any  thing  was  wanting, 
to  tlie  completion  of  it. 

"  Oh  but  there  is  another  old  acquaintance," 
said  Catherine,  "  who  will  rejoice,  I  was  going 
to  say,  as  much  as  any  of  us,  in  seeing  you 
again — I  declare  I  had  quite  forgotten  him — I 
must  witness  the  meeting."  So  saying,  she  ran 
to  the  door,  calling  "  Csesar,  Caesar !"  and 
Caesar  instantly  made  his  appearance,  and  wel- 
comed Hamilton,  by  barking,  jumping,  wagging 
his   tail,    and   returning  the  caresses  lavished 


256  A    SURPRISE. 

Upon  him,  witli  a  rough  licartiness,  which  it 
required  some  management  to  cope  with.  The 
chikh'en,  however,  became  anxious  for  a  share 
of  Caesar's  notice,  and  Colonel  Hamilton  soon 
won  their  hearts,  by  lifting  them  alternately  on 
his  back,  and  making  him  walk  round  the 
room  with  them ;  nor  was  Mrs.  Barton  herself 
quite  insensible  to  this  proof  of  his  politeness  : 
retaining,  however,  good  sense  enough  to  recol- 
lect, that  lie  was  most  likely  to  be  tired  the  first 
with  the  exhibition  of  it,  she  soon  released  both 
him  and  Caesar,  and  retired  with  her  little 
prattlers  to  put  them  to  bed,  an  office  which 
she  very  seldom  deputed  to  anotlier. 

The  moment  that  her  sister  shut  the  door, 
was  one  of  mingled  delight  and  embarrassment 
to  Catherine;  but  it  was  only  for  a  moment 
that  she  could  remain  silent;  for  Hamilton  in- 
stantly brought  his  chair  close  to  hers,  and 
throwing  his  arm  round  her  with  an  air  of 
affectionate  familiarity — 


A    SURPRISE.  257 

'«  Catherine,"  said  he,  "  tell  me  if  you  are 
glad  to  see  me." 

"  Tell  you,  Colonel  Hamilton  !"  she  repeated 
in  a  faultering  voice, — her  eyes  met  his,  and 
sufficiently  said  liow  unnecessary  the  question. 
"  You  saw  how  glad  I  was,"  she  went  on,  in  a 
firmer  tone,  "  I  was  so  surprised  !  so  astonished 
— I  scarcely  know  liow  I  felt." 

"  But  how  could  you  imagine  that  I  meant 
to  return  to  London,  without  coming  again  to 
Nethercross?" 

"  How  could  I  imagine  you  would  come 
again,"  said  Catherine — adding,  in  accents  of 
the  tenderest  reproacli,  as  the  recollection  of 
the  anguish  his  hasty  departure  had  given  her, 
filled  her  eyes  with  tears,  "  you  took  leave  of 
us — you  did  not  even  give  us  a  day's  notice 
of  your  intention  of  going;  how  could  I 
imagine  that  you  would  ever  think  of  Nether- 
cross again,  or  find  any  thing  in  it  worth  com* 
ing  back  to  ?" 


258  A    SURPRISE. 

"  But  how  could  you  imagine  that  I  was  so 
devoid  of  gratitude,  of  common  civility,  putting 
every  other  consideration  out  of  the  question^ 
as  to  make  such  a  leave  taking,  as  that,  do  for 
your  excellent  father,  after  all  his  kindness  and 
hospitality  to  me  — and  as  for  yourself,  is  it 
possible,  Catherine,  that  you  could,  for  one 
moment,  do  me  such  a  cruel  injustice,  as  to 
think  me  capable  of  bidding  you  farewell,  with 
even  the  appearance  of  composure,  if  I  had 
looked  upon  that  farewell  as  likely  to  be  for 
any  length  of  time.'* 

"  If  I  did  you  injustice,  it  has  been  my  own 
punishment,"  said  Catherine,  "  but  do  not  let 
us  talk  of  it  now," — she  added,  seeing  from  the 
brilliant  light  her  words  kindled  in  Hamilton'*? 
eyes,  that  he  annexed  a  meaning  to  them  which 
she  would  gladly  disavow,  even  to  herself; — 
"  when  we  take  leave  this  time,  we  will  have  no 


regrets. 


That  will  depend,  to  me,  at  least,  upon  the 


A    SURPRISE.  259 

terms  on  which  we  are  to  meet  again,"  said 
Hamilton,  and  he  seized  her  hand  j  but  just  as 
he  was  going  to  insist  upon  being  allowed  to 
retain  it,  till  he  had  finished  his  speech,  Mrs. 
Barton  entered,  and  he  threw  himself  back  in 
his  chair,  with  an  air  of  impatience,  which 
threw  Catherine  into  an  agony,  lest  her  sister 
should  perceive  it.  Mrs.  Barton,  however, 
more  intent  on  shunning  any  observations  on 
lierself,  than  making  them  on  others,  went 
to  put  her  candlestick  on  a  side-board,  and 
then  took  her  seat  by  the  fire,  and  drawing 
her  work-table  before  her,  soon  appeared  so 
thoroughly  engrossed  with  the  art  and  mystery 
of  open  hemming,  and  satin  stitching,  that  both 
Hamilton  and  Catherine  began  to  comprehend 
she  meant  them  to  consider  their  tete  a  tete  as 
still  uninterrupted.  Hamilton,  however,  could 
not  help  wishing  in  his  heart,  that  she  had  either 
gone  to  the  visitation  dinner,  with  her  husband, 
or  to  bed  with  her  children  ;  nevertheless,  as  it 


260  A    SURPRISE. 

was  necessary  to  say  something  to  Iier,  and  as 
he  had  nothing  else  to  say,  he  asked  her,  ac- 
cording to  the  invariahle  usage  in  such  a  pre- 
dicament, to  favor  him  with  some  music;  but 
she  begged  leave  to  decline,  with  so  much  real 
trepidation,  that  he  saw  slie  was  in  earnest  in 
her  refusal,  and  therefore  forebore  to  press  her 
any  further — he  next  tried  to  lure  Catherine  to 
the  instrument,  but  slie  felt  herself  unequal  to 
perform  with  the  correctness  which  she  should 
wish,  in  her  sister's  hearing,  and  she  pleaded 
having  already  played,  till  her  fingers  were 
weary,  before  he  came  in. 

"  Well,  1  cannot  deny  that  excuse,  certainly, 
for  I  must  confess  to  having  heard  you  singing; 
and,  if  I  mistake  not,  Mrs.  Barton  was  taking 
a  part  with  you." 

Amelia  coloured  in  the  thought  of  having 
been  oveihe^rd ;  but  it  only  made  her  form  a 
still  stronger  resolution  to  expose  herself  to  no 
further  criticism,   and   Hamilton,   full   of  one 


A  suupnisE.  261 

subject,  and  impntieiit  of  a  forced  conversation 
on  any  other,  was  not  sorry  when  Mr.  Neville 
and  Henry  Barton  made  tlieir  appearance. 

"  Ah  !  ha !"  said  the  Rector,  when  he  saw 
Hamilton's  great  coat  hung  up;  "  who  have 
we  got  here  ! — I  rather  think  we  shall  find  an 
old  acquaintance."  And  as  soon  as  he  opened 
the  door,  Hamilton  flew  towards  him,  with  a 
warmth  of  cordiality  that  raised  him  no  little 
in  the  estimation  of  Mrs.  Barton,  whose  hus- 
band, regardless  of  the  presence  of  a  stranger, 
greeted  her  with  as  affectionate  a  salute  as  if 
their  separation  had  been  for  nine  or  ten  weeks, 
instead  of  as  many  hours. 

"^  And  so  you  have  been  dispensing  justice, 
my  dear  Sir,"  said  Hamilton. 

"^  Yes,  Sir,  or  dispensing  with  it;"  replied 
the  Rector. 

"  And  Mr.  Barton,  I  presume,  goes  with 
you,  to  take  a  lesson  for  the  time  when  he 
will  be  on  the  bench  himself." 


26*2  A    SURPRISE. 

Henry  bowed.  "  It  will  be  a  long  time, 
Sir,  before  I  shall  even  anticipate  any  such 
honor." 

Hamilton  was  disposed,  just  then,  to  tiiink 
well  of  every  body  and  every  thing ;  he  there- 
fore put  the  most  favorable  construction  on  the 
turn  of  Henry's  head,  and  the  colour  tliat 
mounted  on  his  cheek  as  he  spoke,  and  set 
him  down  for  a  sensible,  modest  young  man. 

After  a  good  deal  of  conversation,  which 
no  one  possessed  the  hapj)y  art  of  rendering 
general  more  than  Hamilton,  when  he  chose 
to  exert  it,  he  arose  to  depart,  judiciously 
chusing  the  moment,  according  to  a  rule  he 
laid  down  to  himself,  when  he  wished  to  be 
favorably  spoken  of,  that  he  had  concluded 
some  remarks,  which  he  had  made  in  his  most 
brilliant  style. 

"  But,  my  dear  Hamilton,  you  are  not  going 
to  outrage  our  Lares  and  Penates,  so  far  as 
to  prefer  the  King's  Arms  to  the  Rectory?" 


A    SURPRISE.  263 

"  Your  room  is  ready  for  you,"  said  Cathe- 
rine— "  Rachel  will  be  disappointed  if  you  do 
not  sleep  here.^' 

Mrs.  Barton  said  nothing  ;  for  she  thought  it 
would  be  just  as  decorous  and  convenient  for 
him  to  be  at  th«  inn. 

**  As  to  myself,"  said  Hamilton,  "  believe  me, 
I  would  neither  go  to  the  King's  Arms,  nor  the 
Queen's  Arms,  so  long  as  you  kindly  offer  me 
a  lodging  under  the  same  roof  with  you — but 
the  fact  is,  I  have  got  my  friend  Halston  with 
me,  and  I  promised  him  that  I  would  not  leave 
him  to  himself  any  longer  than  eight  o*clock, 
for  he  has  a  great  dread  of  too  much  of  his  own 
sweet  society." 

Now,  if  the  spirit  of  old  English  hospitality, 
still  lingers  in  any  corner  of  the  kingdom,  it  is 
in  that  part  of  it  y'cleped  Yorkshire,  and  in  no 
division  of  it,  more  than  in  the  romantic  little 
district  of  Craven,  some  of  whose  inhabitants  it 
has  fallen  to  our  lot  to  describe. 


2')4  A    SURPRISE. 

No  sooner  therefore  did  Hamilton  mention 
his  having  left  a  friend  at  the  Inn,  as  the  reason 
why  he  must  take  his  leave  so  early,  than  ex- 
clamations of  surprise  and  reproach  broke  from 
the  lips  of  Mr.  Neville  and  Catherine,  at  the 
same  moment. 

A  friend  vvitli  him,  and  not  bring  him  to  the 
house  !  what  could  he  mean  !  what  would  his 
friend  think  of  him?  they  would  send  for  him 
directly;— Mr.  Neville  would  fetch  him  him- 
self,— this,  however,  Hamilton  would  not  allow, 
so  it  was  settled  that  he  should  go  back  to 
Halston,  with  an  invitation  from  the  Rector; 
and  during  his  short  absence,  Catherine  was 
busily  employed  in  preparing  her  own  room  for 
tlie  reception  of  this  new  guest,  and  ordering  a 
small  bed  to  be  got  ready  for  herself  in  Mar- 
garet's chamber;  for  the  addition  of  Mr.  and 
Mrs.  Barton,  and  their  children,  to  the  family, 
left  her  just  then  no  other  accommodation. 

In  half  an  hour,  every  thing  was  comfortably 


A    SURPRISE.  265 

arranged,  and  Catherine  was  just  giving  her 
last  directions  to  Rachel,  as  a  loud  knock  at 
the  door  announced  the  return  of  Hamilton 
Avith  liis  friend,  whose  long  nose  and  small 
eyes  she  immediately  recognised  to  be  the  same 
that  had  peeped,  some  weeks  before,  above  an 
enormous  bolstering  of  cravat,  from  behind  the 
door  at  the  ball. 

To  Henry  and  Amelia  Mr.  Halston  presented 
a  singular  phenomenon.  His  hair  straight,  his 
whiskers  curled,  his  waist  laced  in  with  a 
tightness  which  even  the  female  sex  have,  at 
last,  become  rational  enough  to  lay  aside,  his 
eye-brows  corked  in  exact  semicircles,  his 
cheeks  stained  with  a  colour  too  glowing  to  be 
consonant  with  his  spindle  shanks,  and  rendered 
still  more  conspicuous  from  the  whiteness  of  his 
teeth,  displayed  as  they  were  by  his  thin  lips, 
severed  in  perpetual  and  unmeaning  laughter  ; 
all  which  peculiarities,  joined  to  the  studied 
observance  of  the  newest  mode  in  every  article 

VOL.    I.  N 


266  A   SURPRISE. 

of  his  dress,  from  his  low-crowned  hat,  to  his 
high-heeled  shoe,    made   him   appear  in  their 
eyes,  a  complete  caricature  of  the  human  spe- 
cies, under  the  most  degrading  effects  of  fashion 
and   folly;    and   Mrs.   Barton,    in   particular^ 
shrunk  from  the  attentions  which  he,  according 
to  the  usage   of  modern   times,    paid  to   her, 
rather  than  to  an  unmarried  female,  with  a  re- 
pugnance so  ill  disguised,  that  Hamilton  could 
not  help   enjoying   the  idea  of  the  wound   it 
would  give  to  Halston's  vanity,  as  he  always 
placed  to  the  account  of  his  own  personal  at- 
tractions, that  agreeable  reception  among  the 
ladies  which  he,  in  fact,  owed  entirely  to  his 
good-nature,  his  propensity  to  gosslpping,  and 
his  fortunate  want  of  discrimination  in   pre- 
cisely ascertaining  the  difference  between  being 
laughed  with,  and  laughed  at. 

The  conversation,  for  the  remainder  of  the 
evening,  took  that  general  and  desultory  turn 
which,  in  England  at  least,  is  always  produced 


A   SURPRISE.  267 

by  the  introduction,  into  a  family  circle,  of 
strangers,  and  persons  of  different  pursuits. — 
Hamilton  and  Halston  talked  of  Tattersal's  and 
the  Argyle  Rooms;  Henry  Barton  and  the  Rec- 
tor of  Mr.  Curwen's  drill  plough,  the  Horse- 
fair  at  Gargrave,  and  the  Yorkshire  Agricultu- 
ral Society ;  and  Amelia  and  her  sister,  in  an 
under  tone,  of  the  art  of  cutting  out  sleeves 
without  gussets,  and  skirts  without  gores,  and 
other  mysteries  of  female  management.  At 
length  nine  o'clock  struck,  and 

"  Punctual  as  lovers  to  the  moment  sworn," 

in  came  supper,  which  Halston  imagined  to  be 
dinner,  and  no  one  undeceived  him.  He  got 
into  a  little  credit  with  Mrs.  Barton  by  taking 
the  currant  wine  for  frontiniac,  and  the  green 
gooseberry  for  champagne,  and  professing  his 
utter  want  of  belief  when  assured  that  they 
were  home-made ;  and  the  readiness  with  which 
he  christened  every  simple  dish  upon  the  table 
N  2 


'268  A    SURPRISE. 

by  a  French  name,  raised  him  likewise  in  the 
opinion  of  the  Rector ;  who,  when  the  party  at 
length  rose  to  separate,  observed,  after  he  and 
Hamilton  had  left  the  room,  that  he  was  evi- 
dently a  travelled  man,  and  he  dared  to  say 
conversable  enough  when  he  was  better  known; 
adding,  however,  a  wondering  conjecture  as  to 
what  part  of  Europe  his  costume  was  taken  from. 

"  It  seems,"  said  he,  '•  to  have  a  little  of 
every  country  in  it ;  the  tout  ensemble  is  certainly 
singular  enough,  but  I  suppose  quite  ccmme  il 
faut  to  those  who  have  sufficient  taste  to  under- 
stand it." 

As  soon  as  ever  Hamilton  had  closed  his 
room  door,  an  indescribable  feeling  of  satisfac- 
tion, at  the  thought  of  being  once  more  luicler 
the  same  roof  with  Catherine,  diffused  itself 
over  his  breast :  but  in  thinking  of  her  it  sud- 
denly came  into  his  mind,  that  she  must  have 
given  up  her  own  apartment  to  Halston  ;  for  he 
was  well  enough  acquainted  with  the  topograpliv 


A    SURPRISE.  1>69 

of  the  liouse  to  be  certain  tliat  there  were  no 
more  spare  bed-rooms  in  it,  than  those  occupied 
by  the  Bartons  and  himself;  and  he  as  suddenly 
resolved  that  if  Catherine's  apartment  were 
indeed  destined  to  admit  any  other  occupant 
than  its  lawful  mistress,  Halston,  at  all  events, 
should  not  be  the  occupier. 

"  Her  dressing-glass  would  take  fright  at  his 
long  nose  poking  against  it,"  said  he,  as  he 
seized  his  portmanteau,  and  gathered  up  the 
things  he  had  scattered  about  the  floor  ;  "  and 
well  it  migijt ;  it  is  used  to  very  different  re- 
flections." 

In  a  minute  he  was  at  Halston's  door,  and 
found  his  compognon  de  voyage,  in  the  act  of 
binding  a  broad  ribbon  round  his  head,  in  order 
to  keep  his  hair  as  he  had  previously  arranged 
it,  that  is  to  say,  as  he  did  many  other  things, 
the  wrong  way. 

"  My  dear  fellow,"  said  Hamilton,  *'  when 
you  have  settled  your  brain-belt,  you  must  come 


270  A   SURPRISE. 

along  with  me.  I  want  to  shew  you  something 
in  my  room." 

"  But  perhaps  I  don't  want  to  see  it,  he  !  he! 
he  ! — what  is  it? — a  ghost,  or  a  rat,  or  a  pretty 
face  !  he  !  he  !  he  !" 

"  Aye  !  there  you've  guessed  it.  Come,  make 
haste." 

"  By-the-hye,  talking  of  pretty  faces,  what 
a  sly  fellow  you  were  to  tell  me  so  much  about 
the  old  parson,  and  so  little  about  his  daugh- 
ters. Egad  !  I  like  your  notions  of  retirement ! 
he !  he  !  he !  with  such  companions  I  would 
turn  hermit  to-morrow." 

"  Don't  tell  them  so,  Hally,  for  fear  they 
should  forswear  the  world  in  a  hurry.  But 
what  do  you  think  of  Mr.  Neville?" 

"  Oh  he's  a  venerable ;  a  better  looking  old 
fellow  than  my  old  Big-wig  was,  that  hummed 
Greek  and  Latin  into  me." 

"  That  tried  to  do  it,  I  suppose  you  mean." 

*'  He  !  he  !  he  !  well  it  would  have  been  all 


A    SURPRISE.  271 

the  same  by  this  time — Greek  and  Latin  are  so 
thoroughly  out.  The  Persic  and  Moslem  are 
the  things.  Egad  !  I  should  like  to  have  the 
teaching  of  them  to  that  delicious  little  prude, 
that  sate  next  me  at  dinner ;  I  would  be  her 
Bulbul ; — who  is  she  ?" 

"  Mr.  Neville's  eldest  daughter,  and  wife  to 
the  young  man  Catherine  speaks  so  affection- 
ately to,  and  calls  Henry." 

"  She  cannot  call  him  Solomon,  at  any  rate, 

he  !  he  !  he  !     Zounds  !  the  fellow  never  opens 

his  mouth." 

"  A  proof,  perhaps,  that  he  is  more  of  a  Solo- 

than  you  give  him  credit  for  :  however  he  has 

opened  it  wide  enough,   at  one  time  or  other, 

to  catch   a  very   pretty   little  woman    for   his 

wife." 

"  Ah,  the  sly  little  rogue  !  what  a  pattern  of 

purity  she  looks,   in  her  plaited  cap,  and  her 

lace  handkerchief,   pinned  up  to  her  chin  !  and 

then  her  slate-coloured  sarsenet !  I  don't  know 


272  A   SURPRISE. 

liow  it  may  be  in  Craveu,  but  in  London,  I 
know,  that  colour  means  any  thing  but  wliat 
some  good  folks  fancy.  I  call  it  defy-devil,  he ! 
he  !  he  !  Egad,  I  always  look  en  it  as  a  fair 
challenge." 

"  Here,  however,  if  you  mean  to  play  the 
devil,  I  fancy  you  will  find  yourself  a  little  out 
in  your  rule." 

"  Egad  I  don't  know  that ;  didn't  you  mind 
how  she  blushed  every  time  she  caught  me 
looking  at  her  ? — and  then  the  expression  of 
her  eye,  did  you  notice  it  ?" 

"  Oh  yes,"  said  Hamilton,  provoked  at  the 
self-conceit  of  Halston,  which  effectually  shield- 
ed him  from  the  laugh  he  had  intended  to  have 
against  him  on  this  very  subject,  "  I  noticed  it — 

'  'Twas  kind,  but  beautifully  shy.' 

and  so  her  husband  seemed  to  think ;  for  he 
appeared  mightily  enamoured  of  the  glances 
she  cast  towards  him,  every  time  she  could 
look  away  from  you." 


A    SURPRISE.  273 

"  Oh  the  bumpkin  !  Nature  does,  to  be  sure, 
tlii'ow  her  gifts  strangely  away,  sometimes  !  to 
see  such  fellows  with  their  sound  teeth,  and 
bronzed  complexions,  and  Herculean  figures!" 

"  Yes,  they  beat  the  Halstons,  and  the 
Hamiltons,  as  far  as  the  raw  material  goes," 
said  Hamilton,  casting  an  approving  glance  at 
his  leg,  as  he  spoke. 

*«Raw  material  indeed,"  said  Halston,  "  look 
at  Miss  Neville,  for  raw  material — tlicre  are 
native  graces,  and  beauties  unadorned: — and 
how  she  comes  into  a  room  ! — egad,  quite  a 
village  Lady  Charlotte  !" 

"  No;  she  is  not,"  said  Hamilton,  "  she  has 
nothing  of  Lady  Charlotte  in  her  whole  com- 
position." 

"  Well,   she   can't  help  that,"    said  Halston, 

"  it  wouldn't   be   fair    to   try   her  by  such    a 

standard.     Yet  the  girl  would  make  a  figure  at 

Al mack's,  as  well  as  the  best  of  them;  her  eyes 

and  complexion   would   astonish   some  of  our 
N  5 


274  A    SURPRISE. 

fashionables,   after  all ;  and  then  what  a  head 
she  has  !'* 

"  Aye,  it  would  be  worth  changing  with, 
would  it  not  Hally?"  said  Hamilton,  "  Inside 
and  out  it  would  be  a  good  bargain ;  but  come 
now,  pray,  my  dear  fellow,  finish  swathing  your 
own  skull,  such  as  it  is,  and  come  along.  Now 
don't  begin  with  your  eye-brows,  for  I  swear  I 
will  not  wait  another  minute." 

So  saying,  Hamilton  hurried  Halston  off: 
and  when  he  had  got  him  into  his  own  room, 
he  pushed  him  towards  the  glass.  "  There," 
said  he,  "  give  me  your  opinion  of  the  pretty 
face  I  promised  to  shew  you — you  may  look  at 
it  till  I  come  back,  for  I  am  going  to  bring  you 
your  gim-cracks." 

"  What  do  you  mean  ?"  cried  Halston. 
''  I  only  mean,"  replied  Hamilton,  returning 
almost  instantly  with    Halston's  portmanteau, 
"  to  change  rooms  with  you,  for  I  hate  moreen 
curtains,  and  you  are  not  fond  of  dimity." 


A    SURPRISE.  275 

"  No  more  I  am  ;  one  wakes  too  soon  by  half 
in  those  cursed  white  beds.  I  like  a  scarlet  or 
a  crimson  the  best;  tlie  more  positive  colour  I 
have  about  me  the  better  I  look." 

"  All,  you  will  look  very  captivating  in  this,  I 
dare  say,  when  you  are  fast  asleep.  You  are 
like  old  hock,  you  look  best  in  green." 

And  so  saying,  Hamilton  wished  his  friend 
good  night,  and  left  him  to  meditate  upon  the 
theory  of  colours,  as  far  as  it  concerned  coats, 
curtains,  and  complexions. 

Hamilton  had  no  sooner  shut  himself  se- 
curely into  the  room  from  which  he  had  so 
dexterously  contrived  to  eject  Halston,  that  he 
looked  round  it  with  feelings  almost  amounting 
to  reverence.  The  perfect  neatness  of  its  ar- 
rangement?, the  unassuming  witness  that  it 
seemed  to  bear  to  the  innocent  and  rational 
pursuits  of  her  to  whom  it  belonged,  all  struck 
so  forcibly  upon  his  mind,  tliat  he  was  over- 
come with  a   tenderness  which  seemed  to  spi- 


276  A    SURPRISE. 

ritualize  liim  in  the  purity  of  her  that  inspired 
it. 

"  Dear  Catherine,"  he  exclaimed,  as  he 
pressed  to  his  lips  a  Ixyolc  of  devotional  exer- 
cises, which  he  found  on  her  toilette  table,  and 
which  opened  of  itself  at  a  discourse  on  self- 
examination.  "  How  '  sweetly  good,'  how  '  in^ 
nocently  gay  !'  Of  such  a  woman  well  may  it 
be  said,  that  *  the  believing  wife  shall  sanctify 
the  unbelieving  husband  !'  " 

It  was  many  years  since  he  had  recalled  a 
passage  of  scripture  to  his  mind,  unless  for  the 
purpose  of  making  a  travestie,  or  a  pointed 
quotation;  it  was  now  suggested,  not  by  his 
head,  but  by  his  heart.  He  walked  about  the 
room,  for  some  minutes,  in  a  deep  reverie.  A 
few  sketches  in  pencil  were  ])inned  against  the 
wall,  over  the  chimney  piece.  He  recollected 
having  been  with  Catherine  to  the  places  they 
delineated,  and  he  deliberately  took  them  down, 
and  put  them  carefully  in  his  letter  case.     He 


A  suiipnisE.  277 

tlien  looked  at  her  book-shelves  :  they  contained 
about  fifty  volumes,  eliiefly  of  the  British 
Essayists  and  poets, — the  works  of  ^loorc  and 
Byron  were  not,  indeed,  to  be  found  among 
them :  a  gap  in  fashionable  literature,  which 
her  country  education  and  distance  from  the 
metropolis  sufficiently  accounted  for,  and  Ha- 
milton, notwithstanding  he  had  them  by  rote 
himself,  was  well  pleased  to  see  their  places 
supplied  by  Spenser,  Milton  and  Thomson. — • 
All  the  translations  from  the  classics,  which 
he  had  read  with  her,  during  the  winter, 
were  likewise  t!iere,  w^ith  papers  of  reference 
in  the  passages  he  had  pointed  out  to  her 
particular  attention.  Could  he  even  try  to 
sleep,  under  such  feelings  as  these  objects 
inspired  ?  No — he  undrew  the  snowy  cur- 
tain, and  placed  his  repeater  in  the  watch- 
pocket,  and  then  again  walked  about  the  room, 
as  lonely  as  Adam  in  Paradise — he  went  tow^ards 
the    window — Catherine's    canary-birds   were 


278  A    SURPRISE. 

hung  there,  for  she  never  trusted  them  during 
tlie  night  from  her  own  protection  ;  but  tlieir 
little  heads  were  hidden  under  their  wings,  un- 
conscious of  the  absence  of  their  mistress  ;  — the 
moon  was  just  disappearing — a  few  stars  shone 
stedfastly  in  the  deep  blue  concave  of  the  cloud- 
less heavens,  and  not  a  sound  was  heard,  except 
the  gentle  waving  of  a  laurestina  against  the 
win 'ow,  and  the  distant  bark  of  a  dog,  yet 
more  faintly  answered  at  intervals,  by  another 
in  an  opposite  direction. 

"  How  beautiful  is  night,"  said  Hamilton, 
"but  it  must  be  night  in  a  scene  like  this — 
not  in  London." — And  as  the  vices  and  miseries 
which  exist  in  that  vast  and  overgrown  metro- 
polis, arose  before  his  imagination,  a  feeling  of 
bitter  reproach  passed  his  mind,  in  the  reflec- 
tion that  he  had  added  his  share  of  evil  to  one, 
and  of  indifference  towards  the  otiier;  and  he 
almost  envied  the  quiet  and  guileless  life  which 
had  fallen  to  the  lot  of  his  wcrthv  tutor,  when 


A    SURPRISE.  279 

he  contrasted  it  with  the  glare  and  mischief  of 
his  own.  "  I  am  not  what  poor  Neville  wished 
to  make  me,"  thought  he, — "  hut  however,  I 
may  yet  be  destined  to  owe  my  reformation  to 
him,"  and  under  the  inliuence  of  this  reflection 
he  did  what  he  was  by  no  means  in  the  habit 
of  doing,  he  implored  other  aid  than  his  own 
strength,  to  assist  him  in  the  victory  over  him- 
self, and  tlien  retired  to  rest ;  soothed  by  that 
sweet  serenity  which  is  invariably  inspired  by 
the  hope  of  being,  even  for  a  moment,  in  such  a 
frame  of  mind,  as  may  be  acceptable  to  the 
Author  of  our  being,  the  Great  Source  of  all 
Perfection. 


280 


CHAPTER  XV. 


THE  BREAKFAST  TABLE. 


Happiness  is  ever  wakeful.  Hamilton 
rose  soon  after  six  ;  but,  early  as  he  thought 
himselfj  Catherine  was  before  hand  with  him. 
He  drew  back  the  window-curtain,  and  beheld 
her,  with  her  nephew  and  niece  on  each  side 
of  her,  waiting  for  a  draught  of  milk  for  them, 
from  the  cow ;  a  small  basket  of  barley  hung 
on  her  arm,  and  when  the  little  ones  had  drank 


THE    BREAKFAST    TABLE.  281' 

their  milk,  slie,  to  their  great  delight,  called 
all  her  feathered-rependents  about  her,  aud, 
scattering  the  corn  among  tliem,  enjoyed  the 
busy  scene  as  much  as  tl  e  children.  Onee, 
only,  did  she  look  up  to  the  window,  and  then 
for  such  an  instant,  that  Hamilton  was  uncer- 
tain whether  she  saw  liim  or  not;  and  when  he 
went  down  stairs,  to  join  her  in  her  morning 
avocations,  she  had  returned  into  tlie  house, 
and  remained  in  Mrs.  Barton's  room  till 
breakfast. 

"  You  are  come  just  in  time  to  settle  the 
matter,"  said  Mr.  Neville  to  Hamilton,  as  he 
entered  the  parlour.  "  You  must  know.  Sir, 
we  had  engaged  ourselves  to-day,  little  dream- 
ing of  the  pleasure  of  seeing  you  here,  to  go  to 
Gordale  Scaur — we  are  to  meet  our  friends  from 
the  Hall  there;  we  shall  take  some  provisions 
with  usj  they  will  do  the  same;  so  you  see  it 
will  be  quite  a  fashionable  tiling — a  pic-nic,  I 
believe  you  call  it ;  and  the  rooks  and  the  goats 


282  THE    BREAKFAST    TABLE. 

will  look  down  upon  us,  and  wonder  what  we 
are  about." 

*'  And  I  hope  they  will  look  at  me,  as  well, 
and  at  Halston  too ;  what  have  we  done,  that 
we  may  not  be  of  the  party  ?" 

'*  Aye,  what  indeed  !  that's  the  very  thing 
I  wanted  to  establish  ;  I  said  you  would  like 
the  ride;  but  Miss  Catherine,  forsooth,  must 
be  wiser  than  her  father,  and  find  out  that  you 
would  neither  of  you  be  at  all  amused,  and 
that  you  would  find  it  a  great  deal  more  enter- 
taining to  stay  at  home  witli  me :  so,  you  see, 
she  very  readily  gave  up  the  pleasure  of  my 
company  ;  and  she  and  all  the  rest  of  the  party, 
were  to  be  as  merry  as  youth  and  fine  weather 
would  make  them,  whilst  we  are  to  sit  looking 
at  each  other,  till  they  please  to  come  back 
again ; — wouldn't  stay  at  home  herself,  you 
mind." 

"  No,"  said  Catherine,  deeply  coloring  as 
she  spoke;    "you  know,  my  dear  father,  the 


THE    BREAKFAST   TABLE.  283 

Longcrofts  proposed  going,  quite  in  compli- 
ment to  my  sister  and  me,  and  I  thought 
it  would  look  so  extremely  selfish  in  me  to  stay 
away." 

"  Certainly,"  said  Colonel  Hamilton,  very 
gravely  ;  "  if  the  Longcrofts  are  concerned  in 
the  affair,  I  should  think  it  a  dangerous  thing 
to  fail  in  all  due  etiquette." 

"  Yes,  yes,"  said  the  worthy  Rector,  *'  it 
will  be  the  best  for  us  all  to  go  together ;  we 
shall  be  all  the  better  for  the  excursion." 

Hamilton  only  bowed,  for  he  scarcely  knew 
at  that  moment  whether  he  would  go  or  not. — 
He  had  not  much  inclination  to  spend  the  day 
with  Edward  Longcroft,  in  so  small  a  party 
that  they  could  not  get  out  of  each  other's 
influence,  but  he  had  still  less  to  leave  Cathe- 
rine to  him,  without  any  competition ;  least  of 
all  to  spend  the  day  with  the  Rector  and 
Halston,  who  would  interrupt  the  rationality 
of  a  tete-d-tete^  without  adding  any  thing  to  the 


284  THE    BREAKFAST    TABLE. 

vivacity  of  a  trio.  He  was,  nevertbeless,  piqued 
at  receiving  no  invitation  from  the  ladies;  for 
Mrs.  Barton,  alu^ays  timid  and  retiring,  was 
particularly  so  in  his  presence,  and  absolutely 
shrank  from  Halston,  whose  attentions,  the 
evening  before,  had  only  excited  in  her  a 
singular  mixture  of  risibility  and  disgust; 
indeed  she  heartily  wished  that  they  had 
both  staid  at  the  lakes,  or  any  where  else,  till 
she  had  returned  to  Blackthorn  Cottage,  and 
even  Catherine  also,  was  at  that  moment  wish- 
ing that  they  had  postponed  their  arrival,  at 
any  rate  for  a  single  day. 

Whilst  the  ladies  were  thus  occupied  with 
tlieir  own  thoughts,  Hamilton's  impatience  of 
tlieir  silence  increased  every  moment;  for, 
unable  to  divine  the  cause,  he  placed  it  all  to 
Edward  Longcroft's  account;  and  that  idea 
determined  him  to  make  one  of  the  party,  in 
order,  that  he  miglit  judge  for  himself,  how  far 
the  Squire  Junior,  as  he  contemptuously  called 


THE    BREAKFAST    TABLE.  285 

liim,  miglit  be  intending  to  amuse  himself  with 
Catherine,  wliose  consequence,  lie  at  that  mo- 
ment fancied  himself  called  on,  from  his  regard 
to  the  Rector,  to  assert.  A  message  from 
Halston,  however,  desiring  to  see  him  imme- 
diately, broke  the  chain  of  his  cogitations,  and 
he  swung  out  of  the  room,  in  no  very  good 
humor,  wliich  was  not  much  improved  by  find- 
ing Halston  only  half-way  advanced  in  his 
toilette,  and  looking  all  the  misery  he  felt,  at 
being,  for  the  first  time  in  his  life,  deprived  of 
the  services  of  his  valet. 

"  It  docs  not  signify,  Hamilton,"  cried  he, 
"  I  cannot  do  without  Bcaujeu;  I  have  been 
trying,  for  tliis  last  hour,  to  dress  myself,  and 
I  cannot  get  on  a  single  inch  !" 

"  Then  you  must  depute  me  to  the  honor  of 
finishing  you,"  said  Hamilton,  "  for  I  swear 
you  shall  have  no  other  assistance.  I  did  not 
bring  any  of  my  own  rascals  with  me,  because 
I  deemed  them  not  meet  personages  to  intro- 


286  THE    BREAKFAST    TABLE. 

duce  into  such  a  house  as  this,  and  as  I  man- 
aged to  wait  on  myself  three  months,  I  shall 
make  you  try  to  do  the  same  for  three  days,  or 
else  you  must  take  up  your  quarters  again  at 
the  King's  Arms;  for  Master  Beaujeu  shall 
not  bring  his  impudent  face  here,  if  I  can 
help  it." 

Halston  was  one  of  the  best-natured  crea- 
tures in  the  world,  and  in  reality  he  had  much 
rather  have  done  without  his  valet,  than  intro- 
duce him  to  the  annoyance  of  any  one;  he 
therefore  very  readily  acceded  to  Hamilton's 
offer  of  assistance,  and  begged  him  to  have  the 
goodness  to  buckle  his  belt,  and  tie  the  strings 
of  his  cravat.  Whilst  Hamilton  was  endea- 
vouring to  screw  him  into  a  proper  wasp-like 
circumference,  (and  he  had  certainly  nothing 
of  the  wasp  in  his  composition,  but  the  shape) 
he  could  not  help  smiling  at  the  absurdity  of 
fashion,  which  could  thus  make  a  man  natu- 
rally one  of  the  sparest  of  forms,  have  recourse 


THE    BREAKFAST   TABLE,  287 

to  such  artificial  means,  to  make  himself  still 
more  slender. 

"  One  cannot  say  to  you,  Halston,  as  the 
Justice  does  to  Sir  John  Fal staff,  '  you  live  in 
great  waste,'  but  one  may  venture  to  say,  he 
that  buckles  in  your  belt  could  not  live  in  less ; 
for  my  part,  I  only  wonder  how  you  can  live 
in  so  little." 

"  Oh,  enough,  and  to  spare,"  cried  Halston, 
endeavouring  to  take  a  long  breath  as  he 
spoke ;  "  you  would  have  one  look  like  an 
alderman— nothing's  so  bad  as  a  show  of  flesh 
in  a  gentleman." 

"  What,  it  takes  from  the  blood,  does  it  ? 
very  well ;  we  must  grant  the  dandies  the  same 
essentials  as  their  race-horses — long  pedigrees, 
shining  coats,  and  slender  legs ;  but  apropos  of 
that,  I  believe,  at  last.  Monsieur  Beaujeu  must 
be  admitted  as  far  as  the  gate;  for  we  shall 
want  the  curricle  and  his  attendance  this 
morning,  as   Miss  Neville  has  got  a  sort   of 


4 


288  THE    BREAKFAST    TABLE. 

pic-iiic  party  arranged,  and  we  are  to  have  a 
cold  dinner  among  the  rocks,  and  to  be  mon- 
strously agreeable  and  Jianpy  all  the  day  long, 
or  all  the  long  day;  perhaps  that's  r.earer  the 
mark." 

"  I  don't  know  wiiy  a  happy  day  shonld  not 
be  a  long  one— it's  wliat  every  body  would 
wish ;  I  shall  take  the  pretty  little  p?n-itan  in 
ray  curricle,  and  I  dare  say  we  shall  not  find 
time  very  tedious. — He  !  he  !  he  !" 

Now  Hamilton  had  been  thinking  of  asking 
Halston  for  the  curricle,  in  order  that  lie  nii^^lit 
drive  Catherine ;  but  he  began  to  suspect  this 
was  to  be  one  of  his  unlucky  days^  and  under 
this  impression  lie  rejoined  tJie  breakfast-table, 
with  a  still  more  moody  countenance  than  ]:e 
had  exhibited  at  it  before. 

Halston,  aa  contraire^  was  in  perfect  geod- 
humor  with  himself  and  every  body  eke;  Mrs. 
Barton  was  forced  to  cast  her  eyes  down,  as  lie 
took  his  seat,  lest  she  should  betray  the  smile 


THE   BREAKFAST   TABLE.  289 

which  she  found  it  irajxjssible  to  repress,  at  her 
husband's  wondering  survey  of  bis  studied 
morning  dishabille;  the  consciousness  of  it 
suffused  lier  cheek  with  a  fine  crimson,  which 
did  not  escape  the  notice  of  Halston,  who, 
flattering  himself  that  it  was  excited  by  th« 
hope  of  his  renewing  his  attentions,  instantly 
drew  his  chair  nearer  to  her,  and  recommenced 
his  court  with  a  zeal  which  was  no  way  lessened 
by  his  conviction  that  it  was  beginning  to  be 
appreciated. 

The  conversation,  during  breakfast,  turned 
entirely  upon  the  ride.  Mr.  Halston  offered 
Mrs.  Barton  a  seat  in  his  curricle,  but  she  de- 
clined it,  with  a  conciseness  that  might  have' 
dispelled  the  delusion  in  which  he  was  indulg- 
ing respecting  her  admiration  of  him  :  he  chose 
however,  to  attribute  it  to  her  fear  of  exciting 
the  jealousy  of  her  husband ;  and  as  he  had 
never  before  awakened  the  "  green-eyed  mon- 

VOL.  I.  o 


290  THE    BREAKFAST    TABLE. 

ster,"  he  felt  his  consequence  no  little  flattered 
by  the  imaginary  discovery  of  a  power  which 
he  had  hitherto,  with  all  his  vanity,  been  unable 
to  pique  himself  upon  possessing. 

"  Then,  perhaps.  Miss  Neville  will  favour 
me." 

Catherine  replied  she  was  much  obliged  to 
him,  but  she  intended  to  ride  her  own  favourite 
poney. 

Poor  Halston  looked  discomfited  at  the 
thought  of  having  to  exhibit  his  elegant  curricle 
without  a  lady  in  it;  and  still  more  so  when  he 
heard  that  he  should  not  even  have  an  oppor» 
tunity  of  exhibiting  it  at  all ;  as  Mr.  Neville 
observed  that  they  had  much  better  all  go  on 
horseback,  the  most  beautiful  parts  of  the  ride 
being  inaccessible  to  carriages. 

"  But  so  many  of  us  !"  Halston  squeaked 
out  in  dismay,  "  we  shall  be  quite  a  cavalcade, 
he  !  he  !  he  !" 


THE    BKEAKFAST    TABLE.  291 

"  Like  Chaucer's  Pilgrims  setting  out  for 
Canterbury,"  said  Hamilton,  "  and  you  shall 
be  the 


yonge  squier, 


A  lover  and  a  lustie  bachelor, 

With  locks  cruli,  as  they  were  laid  in  presse, 

Of  twentie  years  of  age  he  was,  I  giiesse '  " 

"  And  how  will  you  go  then  ?"  resumed 
Halston  to  Mrs.  Barton. 

"  I  shall  ride  behind  my  husband,  Sir." 

"  Behind  him  !  what  you  have  a  jaunting 
car  then  ?"  and  again  hopes  of  exhibiting  his 
curricle  arose. 

"  No  Sir,  we  have  no  carriage  of  any  descrip- 
tion." 

"  Except  carts,  waggons,  and  wheelbarrows," 
added  Henry  Barton. 

"  Tiien  how  do  you  travel  behind  ]Mr. 
Barton?" 

"  A  double  horse,  I  meant,  Sir." 


292  THE    BREAKFAST   TABLE 

"  A  double  horse,  he  !  he  !  he  !  What  sort 
of  a  creature  is  that  ?" 

"Did  you  never  see  a  lady  on  a  pillion,  Sir?" 
said  Mr.  Neville. 

"  I  do  not  recollect  having  had  that  pleasure, 
Sir." 

"  Then,  Sir,  you  would  never  have  guessed 
the  old  enigma — 

'  Come  tell  me  this  riddle  without  any  pother, 
Five  lesrs  on  one  side,  and  three  on  the  other ; 
Two  eyes  in  my  forehead,  and  four  on  my  back, 
One  tongue  that  is  silent,  and  two  that  can  clack.'  " 

"  Excellent,"  cried  Hamilton,  "  I  dare  say 
that  is  Catherine's  composition ;  she  shall  be 
called  the  Craven  Sphinx." 

/«He!  he!  he!"  chuckled  Halston,  «a  fa- 
mous beast  that  would  be,  to  shew  off  at  Exeter 
Change." 

"  Aye  Halston,  and  you  to  exhibit  it — wliat 
with  the  show,  and  the  showman,  it  would  be 


THE   BREAKFAST   TABLE.  293 

quite  the  rage ;  Cliien  Munito  and  the  Sword- 
Swallower  might  go  hang  tliemselves  ;  and  the 
Bonassus,  and  tlie  Boa  Constrictor  into  tlie 
bargain." 

Halston  laughed  again,  for  fortunately  it  was 
all  one  to  him  whether  he  laughed  at  himself 
or  any  thing  else :  but,  however,  as  it  was  ne- 
cessary for  him  to  make  some  arrangement,  in 
place  of  the  curricle,  he  went  to  the  King's 
Arms,  to  give  his  orders  to  Monsieur  Beaujeu; 
as  that  gentleman  had  been  positively  inter- 
dicted by  Hamilton  from  making  his  appearance 
at  the  Rectory  any  further  than  the  gate. 

As  soon  as  he  was  gone  Mrs.  Barton  retired 
to  her  children,  and  Henry  and  the  Rector 
went  to  look  after  the  horses.  Catherine  waited 
a  few  minutes  in  the  expectation  that  Hamilton 
would  make  some  remark  on  the  arrangements 
for  the  day;  but  finding  that  he  continued 
silent,  Sije  attributed  his  gravity  to  his  dislike 
of    the    excursion  altogether;    as    she    knew 


294  THE    BREAKFAST    TABLE 

he  was  too  fastidious  in  his  ideas  of  pleasure  to 
find  it  merely  in  the  simple  enjoyment  of  natu- 
ral beauties. 

"  I  hope,  Colonel  Hamilton,"  said  she, 
gTavely,  "  you  do  not  join  our  party  this  morn- 
ing, merely  out  of  ceremony.  I  sliould  feel  much 
more  comfortable  if  you  would  stay  away,  or 
contrive  some  little  plan  for  yourself  and  Mr. 
Halston;  now  pray  do  not  go  with  us,  unless 
you  really  feel  an  inclination  for  the  ride." 

"  You  are  very  considerate — very  kind  to 
give  me  leave  to  ride  if  1  feel  inclined." 

"  N05  Sir,"  said  Catherine,  with  more  spirit, 
"  I  could  not  possibly  mean  to  dictate  to  you — 
I  was  only  afraid  your  politeness  raiglit  induce 
you  to  act  in  opposition  to  your  inclinations." 

"  And  you  will  find  I  am  not  quite  so  polite 
as  you  imagined,"  said  he,  "  for  you  must 
allow  me  to  say  that  I  shall  go,  simply  because 
it  will  give  me  pleasure :  I  can  have  no  other 
inducement,  for  I  dare  say  all  the  rest  of  the 


THE    BREAKFAST    TABLE.  295 

party  would  very  readily  excuse  my  atten- 
daDce." 

"  How  can  you  say  so  seriously  what  you 
cannot  tliink  ?"  said  Catherine,  her  voice  melted 
as  she  spoke — he  seized  her  hand. 

"  Ask  Longcroft,"  said  he,  as  he  pressed  it 
to  his  lips — his  voice  trembled  as  much  as  her 
own.  Catherine,  with  the  intuitive  perception 
of  her  sex,  felt  that  it  was  jealousy  that  agi- 
tated him  thus.  Could  any  declaration  of  love 
be  more  explicit  ?  A  flash  of  feminine  triumph 
shot  through  her  eyes — it  was  but  for  a  moment^ 
the  next  she  cast  them  to  the  ground,  but  that 
moment  was  long  enough  to  shew  Hamilton 
how  much  he  had  betrayed  himself. 

Just  then  the  horses  were  brought  to  the 
door.  Catherine  had  yet  her  habit  to  put  on. 
Scarcely  did  she  feel  the  steps,  as  she  flew  up 
stairs,  buoyant  in  happiness  and  hope. 

END    OF    THE    FIRST   VOLUME. 


LONDON : 
T.  C.  NEFBY,    11,    LITTLE    QUEEN    STREET, 


UNIVERSITY  OF  ILUN019-URBANA 


